


You're My Clarity

by Niji_Hitomi_Iscariot, Silver_Eternity



Series: Tales From New Chicago [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Conjoined Cathedral, Hermaphroditic Trolls, Like seriously this whole family tree is messed up, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Order of the Signless, Prejudice, Trolls as parents, reversed hemospectrum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-13
Updated: 2013-09-17
Packaged: 2017-12-14 20:42:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/841166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niji_Hitomi_Iscariot/pseuds/Niji_Hitomi_Iscariot, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silver_Eternity/pseuds/Silver_Eternity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some things are just meant to happen. Like falling horns over heels for the most pitiful seatroll you've ever laid your gander bulbs on. He's tall, muscular, and horribly underfed. So much for being anti-concupiscent. Your mother's going to have a--wait, what?! What do you mean you have to leave? But he's all alone! Well, you'll just have to hope he's ok when you get back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The folk-rock sound drifting on the evening breeze was catchy, the kind that would get stuck in someone’s thinkpan without even half trying. The young acolyte of the Order of the Signless was instantly intrigued. Truly he shouldn’t stop, but he felt compelled, like the Divine Father was deliberately pointing him in that direction. So, he didn’t fight very hard when his feet took him around the corner of the building on the edge of an alley he knew better than most of the rest of the city. It had been where he and his siblings and cousins and the other wrigglers in this part of Little Alternia played when they were young. Just around the bend there was an empty lot that used to be a community center, and if one followed the barely paved path just a bit further it cut across the neighborhood to disappear at the edge of Novajo Park, a long abandoned attempt by the city at making the area slightly more ecologically friendly. It had been overgrown and ignored when he was a grub, and it had only become worse over the orbits since.

But tucked between the two ends of the U-shaped apartment building where he’d grown up was a little courtyard with the absolute best acoustics in the entire district. It was there that the priest-to-be discovered the source of the music. A seatroll, if the earfins were anything to go by. Probably violetblood, since by all appearances the person was male. He was hunched over a guitar that had seen too many orbits to be considered new, and seated on an overturned cement bucket. His voice was baritone, smooth and free of the salt-crusting that many aquatics had, though he did have a cigarette tucked in the corner of his mouth while he strummed along, occasionally shifting cords until he found the right one.

The acolyte was star struck, breathless and couldn’t stop himself from approaching the stranger, "That's really good, are you a musician by trade? I mean, obviously you're a musician, but is that what you do to earn a living? Not that you couldn't have other talents of course, it's just that you're really talented at doing that. Your voice is...um...geez...you make me speechless."

The seatroll stilled his strings and blinked several times, a nervous and wary tension in his muscles. “...I don't do anyfin for a livwin’. Can't you tell?" He wiggled his earfins very obviously, and his tone became bitter, punctuated with a dissonant chord that made them both wince. "Coldbloods are wvorthless for hirin’."

"That's not true! Seadwellers are strong! You mean to tell me no one wants to help you? All because you look a little different!? That's so...wrong! It's exactly what the Signless tells us not to do. Have you tried talking to some of the other trolls in the area? I'm sure someone would hire you! Are you ok? I mean, do you have a place to live? Food to eat? If you do, please, forgive my presumptions, but I'm an acolyte with the Conjoined Cathedral and we're always told to reach out our help to anyone who could need it. If you don't have a job, at the very least let me buy you a meal. Please?" A smile tugged at the would-be priest’s mouth with a blush across his cheeks. "I hope this isn't too sudden, but you're very handsome."

An answering smile tried to break through, but the aquatic troll wouldn’t let it, which resulted in a little persistent twitch at the corner of his mouth. "It's not just hovw I look, an’ I got the sea to liwve in, but...hot food vwould be nice. Raw fish an' nothin' but gets mighty bland after a perigree or twvo. An’,” the twitch broke a little more, “you're not exactly chum yerself, sweet horns."

He slung the guitar carefully onto his back as he stood. If there was one thing that remained constant no matter where he’d roamed, the church types were generally reliable regarding the poor, especially the acolytes. Since the young men and women were in training to become priests, they had to be on their best behavior, which included completing a certain number of good deeds as part of their devotion, regardless of species.

Though the priest’s response was fairly typical of those who met him, the impact of how the acolyte reacted carried more weight to those that knew him better. He only came up to the seatroll’s ribs, the tops of his four-inch nubby horns barely brushing the bottom of the musician’s thorax bone. And under the tattered formerly-white tee-shirt and worn blue-jeans, the aquatically trained muscles bunched and moved in the early moonlight in ways that made the shorter troll begin to question his theory regarding his sexuality. So much for being anti-concupiscent.

“…wow…” All the little redblood could do was blink.

The seatroll tilted head a little, the zigzag horns peeking out of his hair as that smile he was trying to avoid slipped onto his face—oh, that was a lot of sharp fucking teeth--and he shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Ahhh, I sea yer gettin' it novw. Most people wvon't hire someone vwho could take 'em out faster'n a fish in a net. Still up for that meal?" He chuckled ruefully.

"O-of course! I-I didn't mean to stare! You're just...impressive. Th-the Order doesn't get many coldbloods, not that being of a cold color is a bad thing or anything. It's just most of my fellow acolytes are in the mid-range, greens, olives, jades, the occasional teal or aqua. We've even had a yellow or two. I'm sure you know they aren't the most height-blessed among us. Some of them are even shorter than me. The only other person outside of my family I’ve ever been this close to that was anywhere near your height is my Brother of the Mirthful Messiah." The priest-in-training laughed a little, but was quite flustered, "Not that being shorter or taller is a bad thing either! Just...wow. I've never been so tongue tied around somebody before. What's your name?"

Still smiling, the seadweller reached down and patted the other male's shoulder. “It's Cronus." He didn't mention his last name. It was a little too…infamous. He wanted to keep this sweet little nub-horn sweet, and revealing that detail too soon would probably scare him off. "I knowv vwhat'cha mean though, you don't see a lotta really tall trolls on a reg'lar basis. Blueblood an' up tends ta be taller an' broader, wve vwere enforcers an' wvarriors vway back on Alternia. An’ in the case a us seadwvellers, vwell, wve're built for the vwater. Long limbs, huge muscles for propulsion, gills, wvebbing, extra eyelids, the vwhole nine yards."

It had been so long since he'd talked to someone who didn't hate him on sight, who didn't think just because of his blood color he should go find himself a lake to haunt or that he should just go die like the old hemocaste system. He was eager to tell him everything, to teach him they weren't inherently evil, they were just different because of the way they'd evolved back on Alternia.

The acolyte nodded, "Oh, I know all too well, you should see my half-brother. He's...well, if you'll pardon the analogy, he's built like a horse! He's a navyblood. Tall, graceful, strong. I've always envied him some. He's got a killer eye for targets too, was the captain of the school's archery team growing up. He's very good with the javelin as well. Something about knowing exactly when the air is going to be perfect to put his weapon on the bullseye. Mom was always going on about how he should have been a member of the Archeradicators like his dad was, but he never had the courage to apply. He's in the military at the moment, but only among the Groundstroyers. It's a waste of his talents if you ask me, but that's why I'm part of the church, to combat the coldblood prejudice that puts people like my brother and yourself on the short end of the stuck. After all, not everyone is like the GHB." He paused but then bit his lip, "That isn't a triggering subject for you is it? I'm so horrible about that sort of thing, always rambling on without ever asking if what I'm talking about is upsetting for the people I'm conversing with."

Cronus only laughed. "Oh don't wvorry over it. I'm an Ampora.” So much for hiding his last name. He covered his internal pang of worry with a slightly more forceful smile than necessary. “I knovw things about the highbloods—rather, the subjugglator class—things that wvould scare you right out a your horns. Including the full an’ complete exploits a the original holder a the GHB title."

Then his stomach snarled to cut them both off. It had been promised a hot meal! Where the fuck was it? He slapped one bare hand to his belly and blushed a lovely shade of violet to the tips of his fins.

"Erm...."

"Oh my! Come on. I'll take you to my mom's bakery. She's always got these melt in your mouth fish rolls made with buttertuna. Where she gets it I don't know, but they're the best I've ever tasted." The easy smile took over the shorter troll's face again, and he hoped his relief at the change of subject wasn't too obvious.

He really didn't want to get into how well he, too, knew the Makara family. So, with a grateful laugh he took Cronus' hand and pulled gently to lead him down the block to Maryam's Cafe, the best bakery in Little Alternia according to the trolls and humans who lived in the apartment building above it.

The violetblood came along easily, docilely letting the much smaller troll lead him and consumed enough by the feel of another sentient being _willingly touching him_ that he was even able, for a change, to forget about the people who would see him and cross the street, who would look away in disgust, who would lean down and whisper to their wrigglers ‘That's a seatroll and they're dangerous. They're dying out like they should, so take a good, long look, this is the only time you might ever see one.’

His hand fit the other's easily into his palm as the clawed fingers curled, and his earfins flared just a little. Who knew today would be this good?

The acolyte smiled over his shoulder much more warmly than any other, blatantly ignoring the other people on the street, right before pushing the glass-paned door open with a cheerful, welcoming jingle.

Then he turned back to the front and called, "Mom! Are you here? I've got another starving mouth for you."

The female troll who poked her head out of the back was anything but what the aspiring musician expected. She was taller than his new friend, soft with age but layered over steel muscles. She had to be at least jade, if not pushing cerulean, with her sharp features and the barb on her horns. Her hair had a shimmer of green where it wasn't dusted with flour, and it was swept up in a messy pile at the back of her head, obviously to keep it out of her face while she worked. She stepped out, wiping her hands on an apron that had seen many, many orbits of baking, and put her hands on her hips appraising the pair in her doorway over a counter that was crowned by a case of mouthwatering breads, buns, sweet and savory rolls, cookies, cakes and all manner of other baked goods.

"Well, what's this one's story, Kanny?" Her brows knit together, but her tone was mothering.

"He's a musician, I think." The priest in training looked at Cronus again, "You never really answered that." Then he looked back at his mother, "He's out of work. New to the city, I think. Or, at least, I haven't seen him around before, and hungry. So, I told him I'd buy him dinner. Is that okay? Are you busy? I don't want to burden you while Jane is at school, and Porrim is off...doing whatever Porrim's doing these days." He frowned like he was trying to figure out what that was but shook his head, "Especially what with—well, you know."

"No, no. It's fine. Sit him down in the usual place, I'll be right over." She waved a dismissive hand, and Kankri gave the seadweller another one of those winning smiles as he guided them both to a well-worn booth next to the counter.

Cronus was left blinking to helplessly be seated in the booth, gently propping his precious instrument in the corner before leaning on the table and pulling at the bottom of one earfin nervously.

"...Vwowv. Your mom is...” he faltered, “…really somefin."

"Yeah. She's got this habit of mothering all of the folks in the area. I think it has something to do with my real mom. It's like she got started with me and just couldn't stop. As a wriggler we always had everybody's friends over for dinner." The shorter troll sat across from him, rubbing the wrist of his opposite hand.

The violet opened his mouth to ask, and quickly decided it was none of his glubbing business because everyone had their own family problems and quickly switched his words before they left his mouth.

"Ya hurt your vwrist there, swveet horns?"

"Oh..." The acolyte looked down. He hadn't noticed he been doing it. "Uh...my...line is prone to wrist problems. My ancestor was tortured that way. They say the irons that burned him have burned so hot and so long that everyone in his bloodline can feel them. I can stop if it makes you uncomfortable."

Cronus realized where his claws were only after he felt them punch through the delicate membrane and smelled his own blood on the air. He removed his fingers and put them on the table instead, sketching a tiny design with the violet trail.

"Nah. S'okay. My line can't ever stop vwith our earfins, one a our ancestors wvas pretty special...got the bottom of the left fin torn clear off. Paranoia vwe'll lose ‘em seems inherent in the family, we can't keep our fingers off a 'em. Not to mention the..." He shrugged, trying to write off the rise of color in his face. "Wvhat I mean is I get it."

"Yeah."

A semi-comfortable silence hung between them until the baker-troll came over with a platter of the fish-buns, and raised an eyebrow at the seatroll. She put her fists on her hips again and stared him down seeming to be waiting for something. When it appeared that he wasn't going to say anything, she scoffed and smacked him across the back of the head.

"Do you have any idea how worried we all were about you, bubblebrains!? Taking off like that. Did you know you have a little brother now? Of course not, because you just had to go taking off for an orbit and a half. If your father was in town he'd tear those pretty little studs straight from your fins for worrying all of us. You're just lucky that he's out with his fishing crew for the week. Now, I'm going back into the kitchen to let your mother know you're safe. If that plate isn't clean by the time I get back I'll make sure it will be before you leave here. Am I clear, Cronus?"

The assaulted seatroll shrank down deeply in his seat, as dark as he could possibly be, his earfins so far down and furled they practically disappeared. "Y-yes, Ms. Maryam."

To show he was being obedient he quickly stuffed one of the rolls into his mouth, still shrunk down. He'd left his family with good reason, not that anyone would know except him. But there were wrigglers and he was just another mouth to feed and he could manage on his own but he couldn't do it in _this_ town and—and that would not be acceptable to Dolorosa. At all.

"Oh, huny!" Her angry facade melted like butter under the sun, and the next thing he knew, his was pulled into a smothering hug, her ample rumble spheres flattening his fins, as she stroked one of his horns, and she sounded like she had tears in her eyes. "We were just so scared that you'd wash up on some beach somewhere and your father would find you and you'd be nothing but sharkbait, and oh, Nussie, don't scare us like that. After everything that happened with 'Zee and Kurlz, the last thing we wanted was to lose you too."

Her cheek was pressed against the top of his head, oblivious to the confused look the young acolyte sitting across from him wore. The redblood scratched his temple for a moment, and folded his hands together in front of him. He vaguely remembered a turn or so ago there was a mix up with his adopted sister's half-brother and something about someone running off, but he had always been a solitary wriggler, and that was when he was first getting interested in the church. So, even though they all lived in the same apartment building, he didn't even know who was actually all related to him, let alone their quadrantmates and all that jazz. So, with vague interest in the conversation at hand, he took one of the fishbuns and nibbled on it.

Cronus relaxed a bit, hugging her back around the waist as he let out a long sigh. "I had to go. I couldn't put any more stress on Mom an’ Dad, they already had it so hard, an’ everybody vwas chippin’ in for the legisclerators an’ I wvas just another burden, I couldn't do it to them, I had to get out. The sea took care a me." She'd never get out the purple stains spreading from his tears, though he made no sound.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. We all knew, guppy." She pulled back and tilted his chin up. "Didn't make any easier to handle. Your mom took it 'reel' hard. You owe her some time, k?"

His earfins instantly furled again. "I...I...okay. I guess she probably did worry even though there's just absolutely no need because she's the one wvho glubbin' taught me in the first place…but okay."

"Good." She nodded, and pulled back completely, inconspicuously rubbing her own cheeks with a corner of her apron. "Now, I've got other customers I gotta deal with, so you sit there and be good. And help Kanny pick his mouth up off the floor, his thinkpan's probably buzzing something awful trying to figure out how I know you. So, enjoy yourselves, boys."

She strode purposefully back out of the room, dusting flour from her clothes, though it would never work, and the priest in training sat quietly, picking at the fishbun in his hands, frowning a little. He wasn't upset exactly, but she was right, he was trying to piece together who Cronus was, where he came from and who he had to be worried about upsetting with his...oh my! That was certainly unexpected. His cheeks dusted lightly red, enough to be a rustblood, which he quickly shook his head to clear those thoughts. The last thing he wanted to do was drive a wedge between them, even if the seatroll hadn't been as forthcoming as he could have been. After all, who was Kankri to judge a desire to hide secrets?

The seatroll ate another of the buns, visually examining his companion much more closely all of a sudden before leaning back in his seat. He had this sinking feeling...

"...yer Signless' boy, aren'tcha?"

The Vantas line had a complicated history rooted way back in the ancestors of the Original Lines, due to the web of unholy what-the-fuck that went down with the First Signless. What it usually came down to was either the Ampora line was excluded from the Vantas social network group, or loosely connected. Whichever it was all depended on that generation's Vantas. Which made Cronus suddenly feel he'd fucked things up completely. Fuck him over a lit stove with a subjuggulator club.

The shorter troll's eyes went wide, and what had been passing as rust before was brilliantly crimson now in the more clear light from the cafe's overhead lamps. Fear flickered across his features.

"I...I..." He looked defeated, and tore his gaze away, "He died laying my egg. I never knew him."

"Oh. That is a gogdamn shame, I'm sorry fer bringin' it up. He was nice. Really..."

Violet eyes unfocused as the memory played of a nub-horned adult that was all dark shadows and kind eyes ruffling his hair and telling him it was ok not to have the usual stripe and rubbing away the itch that clung to his still-forming horns.

Cronus re-focused. "Kind. He vwas wvery kind."

"Everyone says that. He was gentle. The stories make him sound like the real Signless. The one that brought Alternia here after the empress died, when our people were..." Kankri looked up. "Well...it's why I went into the church. He was an acolyte when he died, and I wanted to...sort of...follow in his footsteps if I could..." He trailed off some, "So, I guess being an Ampora your dad is Dualscar?"

"Ah...yeah." The aquatic’s clawed fingers flashed up to the twin lines carved into his forehead above his right eye. _Let's give you those stupid marks to match your stupid dad!  Isn't that some kind of fulthy ritual in your worthless seadweller family anyway?  We'll save them the trouble!_ He cleared his throat, "Your mom...vwell yer doin' the right thing to followv in his footsteps. I vwish he'd seen howv good yer grovwin' up."

"Now you're talking like you're sweeps older than me." The redblood smiled a bit, the warmth coming back to his previously wary expression. "You can't be more than an orbit older, if that. And besides, it's not like age really matters between fluh—I mean!" This time the blush was bright crimson as his mouth got away from him, and his hands flew to his lips as though that would keep the words from falling into audible space.

Cronus burst out laughing, leaning on the table. "Movin' a lil' fast there, swveethorns, stealin' my thunder. That's my job to be a desperate schmutz an' start alludin' ta quadrant possibilities tha' may or may not exist this early in th' acquaintanceship. But I vwas actually referrin' ta yer kindness towvards a stranger. It vwas just his sort a thing to do." He reached over and lightly tapped the end of that cute little button nose the redblood had.

That made the acolyte blush deeper, his eyes closing as the color spread to the tips of his pointed ears. "I-I-I'm sorry! I don't know what came over me! I'm like some fluttering wriggler...That was so forward. Ugh. You must think me so pathetic now. I don't...I don't interact with people personally most of the time. To be honest most of them are so...triggering without even giving any sort of warning, I just don't ever feel comfortable talking to them. And the times that I do more often than not they say something that could be upsetting to someone else, and I try to point that out and all I get for my trouble is a pile of even more triggering annoyance about how I should keep my nose out of everyone else's business. It..uh...It doesn't make for a very social growing up. I'm sorry."

"No, no, yer fine, angelfish. I'm hardly offended. If anyfin I'm flattered outta my fins," the other replied, leaning his chin on one hand and grinning at the adorable young troll across from him. "You do wvhat I do so much cuter, it's amazin’. You manage t'make fumbling look allurin’. Makes me vwanna...grab ya up an' wvhisper in your ears until ya turn all red an' start stutterin'."

"I have the feeling that wouldn't be too hard at this point." The young Vantas dropped his hands far enough that Cronus could see his short but deadly fangs digging into his bottom lip, as he peered up at the seadweller through his bangs. His voice dropped to whisper, "And...I can't say that I wouldn't like it."

Cronus's fins flared the largest the redblood had seen them yet, until the studs glittered, as his pupils seemed to glow. “Oh glubbin' lords a the human hell don't tell me that, you don't knovw wvhat that does to me an’ you haven't even told me your name. Don't make me take the tvwisted shameglobes a the century t'go see my mum wit' a purple crotch in my pants, 'cuz that's wvhat'll happen if you keep sayin' stuff like that," he growled, and under his shirt his gills had started to flare.

"Oh! I'm such a flutterbrain! It's Kankri. Kankri Vantas. And the last thing I'd want to do would to twist your shameglobes, but I have to admit, I'm not entirely sure that I could do to fix such a situation. The only ones I have any experience with are my own. But...I do know a thing or two about..." A sly curl came to the corner of the redblood's lips, "hiding incriminating stains."

The seadweller’s hands both curled into fists as he breathed deeply several times. Once he'd managed to remind himself how to speak, his voice rattled like stones along the sea floor. "There's not much ya can do. Just...vw-w-wait until laterrr. Since w-w-wve certainly can't to anyfin about it rrright novw-w-w."

His accent had thickened and worsened as he fought with his nature. Because Kankri had just said he was a virgin and all Cronus wanted to do was haul him up over the table, de-pants him, and swallow his bulge into his nook until the other male exploded and he was pretty sure the other wouldn't be up for public pailing. Or that Ms. Maryam would tolerate it either.

"Should I let you go see your mother? I have a small errand to run, and if I did that while you were speaking with her, I...could meet you back here later to...um...take care of those shameglobes." Kankri continued to chew on his lip.

He was being so forward! True, superficially he'd known Cronus as a wriggler, but that was in a distant, friends of his siblings kind of way, but the fire lighting up his insides about the seadweller just wouldn't let himself pass up the chance. Something drew him close to the violetblood, and if there was one thing the Church of the Signless preached, it was listening to instinct when it came to reaching out to other trolls. No greater example of this existed than the story of the Original Signless and his Disciple, the oliveblood whose love transcended quadrants. The whispers about them were that their attraction had been so powerful, so amazing, that not even his death could stop it, and that she'd conceived the beginning of the Vantas line after dreaming of her beloved hours after his death at the hands of the Imperial Condesence.

Cronus' fingers twitched, his claws scratching the table in frustration, but he knew Kankri was right. "Nnngh yeeeah. Yeah let's do that. Sounds like a plan," he replied carefully, fighting not to seal the promise with a kiss. If he did, he was going to make a deep purple mess out of his pants and that was the last thing he needed to show his family after being away from them for so long.

Kankri smiled brighter, stood from his seat, and hesitated for a moment, the tip of his crimson tongue licking his lips. The hand closest to the taller troll curled in obvious resistance, and the muscles revealed by his acolyte's robes twitched. For several seconds that stretched on for perigrees, the priest in training fought with himself, before he bit his lip again, grabbed a hold of the seadweller's neck, and planted a heated kiss on the vaguely purple-tinted-black lips. He moaned at the contact, and when he pulled back, he hovered over Cronus' mouth, just breathing, his tongue tracing both of their lips for a heavy moment. Then he was walking away, quickly and with a stiff gait that had nothing to do with his spine and everything to do with the writhing in his pants.

The seatroll sat utterly stunned for a good twenty seconds before looking at the mess he'd just made beneath the table and using his guitar to cover himself. He needed a change of pants. And a good wash-up in the nearest ocean. The tittering laughter from bakery’s kitchen sent an equally purple flood across his face.


	2. Chapter 2

The little almost-priest bolted the second he left the cafe, though he heard his adopted mother laughing heartily in the kitchen. It took him until he got back up to his room at the monastery until he was calmed down enough to think clearly. He was panting and pressed against the door with a frantic sort of panic gripping him.

"Oh Gog! Signless help me! I can't believe I just did that. It was so forward! He can't possibly have wanted me to do that. He can't have! He's been on his own for so long! Maybe he was driven off. Oh Gog, what have I done? I've triggered him, I know I have! He's going to hate me now. Just like the others. I know you aren't my moirail, but you gotta help me here, Kurloz! What do I do?! I kissed him! I just met him today and I kissed him, just like that! It was sooo good, but I shouldn't have done it. I should have waited, found out what, if anything, he has in his past. What do I do if he's been traumatized by kissing or something? What do I do if he was raped!? Oh Gog! What if that's why he left before!? What do I do? He said he wanted to meet me again tonight before I kissed him, but do you think he'll still want to?"

His terrified eyes gripped the calm purple gaze of his roommate, pleading silently as much as he had been pleading out loud.

Kurloz, in the slow, careful way he had to move while his broken bones healed, sat up and went to the redblood who was his fellow acolyte and nuzzled into his hair, petting his arm and wincing when his stitches caught.

_YoU'rE aLrIgHt BrOtHeR. YoU cOuLd NeVeR tRiGgEr AnYoNe. BuT fIrSt, WhO iS iT?_

The chucklevoodoos made his words sound strange, sing-song and almost as if they wobbled, but Kankri was one of the few who didn't react badly to them. And it was faster than signing.

"C-Cronus...Ampora. D-Dualscar's son. The one that ran off a turn and a half ago? Back when Condesce lost her job."

The shaking was calming down. Something about the soft, velvet sound of the bigger troll's not-voice was soothing. Really, Kankri had a weakness for coldblooded trolls. He always felt more comfortable with them. He chalked it up to having so many related to him, even if half of them were adopted siblings.

The purpleblood's stitched mouth curled in both corners in a smile.

_Ah. ThAt OnE. YoU dEfInItElY cOuLdN't HaVe TrIgGeReD hIm WiTh A kIsS. He'Ll bE bAcK tO cOlLeCt, TrUsT mE. ThE aMpOrAs ArE a DeSpErAtE lOt wHeN iT cOmEs To PaIlInG aNd QuAdRaNtS._

He chuckled lightly and hugged Kankri tighter, patting his horns gently.

"So, you really think I have a shot with him?" Hopeful crimson looked up, and careful arms came around the thin, but tall mime, adding a stocky support to help the other ease his injuries.

Kurloz leaned gratefully on his friend's support.

_Of CoUrSe YoU dO, kAn. WhY wOuLdN't He FaLl HoRnS oVeR hEeLs FlUsH fOr SuCh A hAnDsOmE, sEnSiTiVe, KiNd, UnPrEdJuIcEd TrOlL? YoU'rE jUsT wHaT sOmEoNe LiKe HiM nEeDs_ ,he assured.

"Aw. I'm no more special than any other decent person. I just don't think we should be held responsible for the mistakes of others. As long as a person is truly regretful for what they've done, there is no reason why they don't deserve a second chance. And no matter what a single person has or hasn't done, they aren't at fault for something that happened before they were born, even if the party at fault for the situation is related to them. Pardon my language, but that's just downright persecution and prejudice. A troll can't control the color of their blood. To ostracize an entire third of the population because a few were unable to find amicable and passive means to express their displeasure with the status quo does not mean that all members of those bloodlines will be the same. If it wouldn't be too triggering for you, I'd like to use your situation as an example. What's happened is only your fault insofar as your physical actions caused the situation, but there were many other factors that added up to a powder keg of tension and frustration that simply had no other option but to explode. And it would be downright wrong of me to hold all of those things against you, especially as you clearly regret the parts of it which you were directly responsible for."

Kankri paused, but obviously was ready to push forward with more until he met, again, the calm gaze of his roommate. Shaking his head, he dismissed the thoughts. "I'm preaching again, and should save such things for the sermon Father Light wants me to write for my Vows." He glanced down at the bandages decorating Kurloz' body, "How are you today? You were sleeping when I left this morning."

The mime fingered his stitches before answering.

_I'm DoInG aLrIgHt bRoThEr. HeAlInG a LiTtLe MoRe EvErY dAy. We NeEd To GeT gOiNg ThOuGh. TuNa'S sTiLl On ReStRiCteD vIsItInG hOuRs._

"Yes, poor dear. Here," The redblood lent his aid to help the bigger troll sit back down on his bunk, "let me get a quick change and we can get going." He was already moving off to the small ablution room that they shared with the pair of acolytes next door to them. "The last thing I'd want to do is show up smelling and looking like I'd been out on the street all day when he can't even open his window. I can't even image how terribly triggering it is to be unable to feel the breeze against his skin or smell the ocean. How is Latula holding up? I didn't get over to see her today. I must say I was regretfully distracted by stumbling upon Cronus attempting to earn a few beetles on the corner near Mom's bakery."

The door was pushed around slightly, so that he could change from his more bulky robes to the streamlined uniform of the clergy; knee-high cloth boots, relaxed slacks, an abdomen binding that covered his torso from ribs to hips, and the cropped shirt that was mostly collar and an attached cape-like layer of fabric down his back to brush his heels. When he took his Vows and became a full priest he would be given an over-cape with a hood that would at once shadow his face, and make his horns more imposing. All of it was a deep coal black with bright crimson details along the edges of the hems and down the center of his collar, signifying his affiliation specifically with the Crimson Deliverer. He came back around the door adjusting the bracers around his wrists that were emblazoned with the Sigil of the Signless.

Kurloz was still in his bone-embroidered black clothes common to the religion of the purplebloods, as he was unable to change without assistance anymore and he didn't really have time to lose by trying. So instead he just gestured the other over.

"How can I help, Brother?" Kankri crossed the room quickly.

_Oh, JuSt GeT mE uP,_  he replied,  _aNd HeLp Me To ThE cAr. We DoN't HaVe TiMe To ChAnGe Me._

"Alright."

The redblood ducked under his friend's good arm, which was to say the one that was only broken once as opposed to the other, his dominant side, which was in about six different pieces and held together with steel rods pinned in place. Though the mime argued every time they discussed it, he really was lucky that the fractures were clean, perfect snaps across the bones, and not the pulverized mess that they could have been, like his tongue had been. If that had been the case it would have been far more likely that the purpleblood would have lost all mobility on that side, as it was he'd never walk without a limp ever again, and his vocal ability had been reduced to incoherent noises, what was left of his mouth muscle was too small to truly form words in any language.

Those thoughts circled Kankri's thinkpan while they made their way to the monastery's communal vehicle. It wasn't in the best of shape, but it ran and could get them to the specialized medical center across town where their friend was trying to recuperate from a massive psychic overload. Truly, the acolyte was again mulling over the entire situation. It just didn't sit right with him that Mituna had completely lost control like that. He'd been the foremost psionic in the city, and his designs for meshing the humans' mechanical technology with the trolls' synthesized biological versions was an innovation that would revolutionize the entire world. At the moment, though, all of those ideas were trapped within the short-circuiting synapses of the yellowblood's mind, locked in a honeycomb of paranoia, dellusions, Tourette's style outbursts, and aphasia. The doctors and all of their friends hoped and prayed that by bringing the psionic's moirail to see him every day, their interaction would soothe the frantic spasms within Mituna's prefrontal cortex, and bring him back to some semblance of normality. Thus far, it didn't seem to be working as well as they had first hoped.

Kurloz to be honest was getting a little desperate, and would just sit the entire time he was allowed to visit, staring into the wildly sparking, eternally-open eyes and praying to all the deities he'd ever heard of that his moirail would come out of it. And more that he would forgive him.

And more and more, he was tempted to see if the Chucklevoodoo's that had caused the overload in the first place could smooth out the neural pathways that had been jumbled and fucked up.

Arriving at the hospital was fairly standard by now, the nurse at the front desk merely nodded to them, and Kankri signed the log noting that they had been there, and at what time. Then he opened the complicated lock that was more mechanical than technological, and more biological than mechanical; specially designed to keep a psionic of Mituna's caliber contained until they had devised a way to contain his optic attacks, because until they did, the yellowblood was a danger to everyone around him.

The redblood shuddered, forcing his train of thought away from the six humans and two carapaces who'd been caught in that initial explosion of mental power. It would be much better for their friend for him to focus on Cronus and the potential quadrant he might fill. Gog, he felt like a teenage wriggler again, getting all flustered about it, and a blush decorated his cheeks as they entered the room itself.

"Evening, Mituna. Are you awake?" Kankri spoke clearly, enunciating precisely.

"Thitjeguth, 'Kri, I'm thtuck, I ain't dumb!" The little yellowblood was dressed in a black and yellow striped nightgown that was at least two sizes bigger than him, and as he staggered away from the window, which showed evidence of him having been licking it, he was chewing on his lip.

Kurloz pushed immediately away from Kankri, reaching out with his bad arm for his moirail and paying for his instinctual reaction to protect and comfort when pain consumed him. Metal that had been pinned to bone did  _not_ feel good when the muscles scraped against said metal, making it scream with pain all the way to the marrow. He crumpled to the floor.

He got back up with the help of a chair and his non-dominant arm, lips strained and bleeding as he gritted his teeth, the white showing behind stitched black-purple. He then continued to Mituna, ignoring his own body to gently put his thick thumb between his moirail's fangs and his bleeding lip. If he felt driven to cause pain, he should be inflicting it upon Kurloz.

Kankri frowned, stepping back and turning away to give the moirails their privacy. He wouldn't even be there if it weren't for Kurloz own injuries, which appeared suspiciously incongruent with the rest of what the city was calling the Grand High Attack, in reference to the culprit. Oh, there he went again. His thoughts circling things he knew would be triggering for his little friend. Cronus. Must think Cronus. It became a mantra so that he would stop speculating where the psionic could accidentally pick up on his theories.

"Thpitthannogeratthazz! CHUMBUCKETTH!"

Mustard yellow flung in blood-tinged spittle across the tall purpleblood's thumb as Mituna twitched, his blue eye wincing with an arc of cobalt electricity that was immediately sucked to the ceiling by the special panels insulating the room from the rest of the world. His head stayed cocked to that side, and a muscle in his cheek jumped, but with his fangs sunk into his moirail's thumb, his eyes were clear again.

They flicked up to the purple orbs above him, 8 _R43K TH3 H3AD5 0F TH3 UNW0RTHY!_

Kurloz's eyes curiously blanked as his horns seemed to waver, or vibrate.

_NO HEADS NEED BREAKING MY DEAREST OF BROTHERS. NOT NOW. THE MIRTHFUL MESSIAHS CHOOSE THEIR TIME TO COME AND IT IS NOT NOW. THE UNWORTHY MIX WITH THE WORTHY TO MAKE THEM HARDER TO FIND._

His body shuddered and he swayed as he struggled to keep his balance. How was Mituna doing this? How was he in his thinkpan like this?

_7H3Y K33P 4W4Y 7H3 5M3LL5 0F L1F3, 7H3Y L0CK 7H3 D00R, 7H3Y_ _**RUN 4W4Y FR0M M3!** _ _i want to hurt them. M4K3 7H3M P4Y! help...Kurloz...help..._

There was the snap and crackle of electricity. A delluge of images, violent, graphic, gore-filled images, crashed through the purpleblood's mind. Eons of tortured trolls, humans, carapaces, and other races that he'd never seen before, and laughing, always constant, maniacal laughing, like the soundtrack to a wicked horror film. The pictures flew faster and faster, the blood running together until it was a stream and a pair of focused, deep purple eyes peered out of the insanity. Light flickered like the buzz of a thunderstorm on the horizon, the troll's massive frame against the waterfall of life fluid behind him illuminated in flashes like a randomized strobe light.

_N0 3SC4P3. noonecanescapethehighbloodnonecanfacehismirthfulwr athandlivetotellthetale._

Suddenly Kankri was there, holding Mituna, and pulling him away, looking frazzled and worried. "What was that?! Kurloz? Mituna? Somebody say something, please? I'm feeling rather triggered here."

Kurloz looked at Kankri, then back to Mituna.

_The MiRtHfUl MeSsIaH hAs HiM, KaNkRi._

Fucking PARADOXES. His nostrils flared and he looked again into Mituna's eyes.

_I'm GoInG iN._

He dove into it, let himself be swept along through the pain and the blood, following the flicker that was Mituna, drawing on his moirail connection. He would wrestle his palemate away from the throes of the Original Grand Highblood or he would lose his mind trying.

"Wait?! You're WHAT!? Meulin's gonna kill me if you don't come...oh, you're already gone aren't you? Fucking psychics." The redblood groused, holding the slumped over body of his yellowblooded friend. Then it registered what he said, and he blanched. "I hope neither one of you heard that."

He looked between the two, and sighed. It took some maneuvering but he was able to get both into the pile of plush bees on the floor. Whatever was going on between them, Kankri couldn't access it, couldn't hear it, and couldn't help other than arranging the pair into as comfortable a pale-cuddle as he could get given Mituna's twitching muscles and Kurloz' physical disabilities. After that was done, the acolyte tried to just sit in the chair across the room from them and wait patiently, but that didn't work. So, he paced a bit, constantly looking over at the two. How long was it going to take? Could Kurloz even actually come back after a meditation that deep? He had no idea how the practitioners of the Mirthful Messiah did the things they did. No one really understood it, but from what little he did know, this wasn't good.

Suddenly the desire for Cronus flashed across his thinkpan. He melted a little thinking about the seadweller's violet eyes, a shade off of Kurloz on the pink side, and lively, like the sunset of a summer evening-new and awake with promise for the future. It wasn't that his fellow acolyte's gaze was dead, but there was a dangerous sorrow that kept the purple muted to almost lavender levels, like the mime was afraid of his own emotions. But Cronus embraced them. Kankri could tell just from the way the seadweller smiled. He swooned a little, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he sank back into the chair, content to nightdream about his flushcrush.

Kurloz was lost in rainbow tentacles and great battles never fought, fighting to get to his moirail. When he finally achieved it, he was battered, panting, and  _angry_. His horns were sparking violently with Chucklevoodoos and when he found Mituna chained before who he knew was his grandcestor, he unleashed them in a dazzling display of fury, screaming with the voice and the tongue he no longer had.

_"YOU CANNOT HAVE MY MOTHERFUCKING MOIRAIL! HE IS MOTHERFUCKING MINE AND YOU CAN GET YOUR GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING OWN YOU NOOKLICKING BULGESWALLOWING PUNK-ASS FAILURE OF TROLLFLESH!"_

He grabbed the chains holding the yellowblood down and tore his manacle off, bending the metal through force of will, which was what counted in dreambubbles or whatever the fuck this was.

As the Helmsman before him, the yellowblood slumped in his bonds, eyes unfocused, and his lifefluid oozing from all of his orifices, adding to the slurry of rainbow colored paint on the floor. The spectre of the original Grand Highblood seemed to only laugh and sit imposingly on his throne. Then a light flickered, illuminating his face, and the jagged make-up that was all too familiar to the mime. His own words,  _PUNK-ASS FAILURE OF TROLLFLESH_ echoed against the bloodstained walls, bouncing back and growing louder and louder, until the room they were in was shouting the insult back to the mime. The lights flickered again, catching on the skull pattern, over and over and over.

_What's the matter, motherfucking little brother? NEVER LOOKED IN THE MOTHERFUCKING MIRROR BEFORE?_

_I know exactly what a motherfucking monster I am,_  Kurloz snapped angrily, hair wild and horns still sparking as his tongue first disappeared, then the stitches seamed over his mouth as his own facepaint, which was not on his outer body, appeared.

_I know what I did and I will pay for it the rest of my life even if my father did take the rap. I know what I am. I motherfucking know._

He released another shackle.

_A demon inside me was created by that motherfucking shit they fed me, and it made me hurt my moirail, who motherfucking killed eight. That is nine lives I took, nine lives ruined. Because I made one huge motherfucking mistake and my inner monster came the fuck out._

Mituna groaned, the softest sound in the room between the two highbloods' screaming and the echoes, but it cut through the noise like a hot knife through butter. A visor across his eyes lit up like a computer screen, and the despondent head rolled to face his moirail.

_Kurl0z? H4v3 1 d31d? H4v3 1 53rv3d my 53n73nc3? 4m 1 fr33 t0 d13 n0w?_

The amethyst's eyes flashed rainbow.  _Is that what he told you? Oh my precious moirail. No, no, you haven't died, and there was never a sentence to serve. Oh messiahs, I'm so sorry, brother. I didn't mean to, I'm sorry,_  he collapsed to his knees and cradled the beaten male against his chest, tears running down his face and smudging his facepaint as he rocked back and forth on his knees.  _Oh my Mituna, what have I done to you?_

The deeper the mime sank into his depression, the bigger his mirror-self's grin became. The blood on the ground stained the other highblood's legs, sneaking up his flesh and clothes like the roll of a raindrop down a windowpane in reverse, getting thicker, turning into a stream running up his body. Wires grew from the ground and the wall, digging into Mituna's flesh, though the psion didn't notice.

Kurloz on the other hand, did. He yanked off both foot shackles and then grabbed the wires and burned them to nothing in his hand as he hauled his moirail against his chest, growing in stature until he matched the horrorshow that was his mirror image.

_FUCK YOU. I ALREADY SAID YOU CAN'T FUCKING HAVE HIM, OR WEREN'T YOU MOTHERFUCKING LISTENING?_

The other-him began to laugh, loud and manically, with an edge of instability that only solidified the other-version's lack of anything resembling sanity. The viewscreen across Mituna's eyes lit up again,  _C4N'7 0U7RUN WH4T'5 4LR34DY H3R3! C4N'7 UND0 WH47'5 4LR34DY D0N3! C4N'7 74K3 B4CK WH4T'5 4LR34DY Y0UR5!_

His Chucklevoodoos rose to such a charge it started giving off a deadly whining hum.

_YOU ARE NOT ME. YOU FEEL NO REMORSE FOR WHAT YOU'VE DONE. I DO. YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT THE NUMBER OF LIVES YOU'VE ENDED. I DO. YOU NEVER GOT TO EXPERIENCE A SUCCESSFULL SESSON, BUT I'M THE PRODUCT OF ONE. SO YES, I MOTHERFUCKING CAN TAKE BACK WHAT'S ALREADY MINE. BECAUSE SOPORIN WILL NEVER COME WITHIN A SOLAR SWEEP OF ME AGAIN, AND_ _**NEITHER WILL YOU** _ _. BE MOTHERFUCKING GONE!_

Holding Mituna tightly against his chest, he unleashed the charge between his horns.

The dream bubble 'popped'.

Mituna woke up screaming, flat out screaming. Kankri jumped to his feet, but there was nothing he could really do for the thrashing, crying, agonized psion. He shoved both hands in his hair, cupping his horns, and slammed the 'Call for Help' button next to the door. Immediately a pair of rustblood orderlies and a human doctor came barging into the room. The bovine pair stepped forward to grab up the pale-pair on the pile, but the acolyte stopped them.

"Wait! Just call Latula Pyrope! She's his matesprit. If anyone can help his moirail calm him down, she can. Go! Go!" He shooed, and the orderlies looked to the doctor, who already had his personal communicator out, waiting for the call to connect.

Kurloz was covering as much of Mituna's body with his own as he was physically able, and his skin, his clothes, started peeling off in strips, falling away in chunks, and his hair sizzled as his horns seemed to pulsate.

But that was impossible. Purplebloods didn't have psionics, much less ones that strong.

When the doctor finally got through to Latula, he addressed the situation with the same sort of clinical detachment that he and the other humans that ran the place had been using regarding the tealblood's flushmate, but, being thoroughly triggered by the scene developing before him, Kankri snatched the communicator from the man's hand.

"Tula!? Oh! Tula, thank Gogs! You have to get down here! No! He's awake! And something happened! I don't even know what. One minute they're standing there and the next all fuck is breaking loose. You know I don't normally use this sort of language but I HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON! You can hear him screaming? Yes? Exactly! HE IS! It's not stopping! JUST FUCKING GET DOWN HERE, YOU NOSE-LESS, SORRY EXCUSE FOR A SKATEBOARDING, NOOKSNIFFER! YOUR PSYCHOTIC MOTHERFUCKING MATESPRIT NEEDS YOU!"

Kurloz's horns began to emit a high-pitched whine and started to shake as yet more skin peeled away, dropping to the floor, starting to reveal muscle tissue. His throat was too constricted to scream which was why he was silent; but he was also barely breathing. He curled tighter around Mituna.

Kankri backed against the door, biting his lip and horrified. He mentally recited every prayer to the Signless he'd ever learned, tracing the sigil on his wrist over and over and over for balance. To his eyes, his friends were literally dissolving before his very eyes, and there was nothing he could do about it. He wasn't a blueblood with the strength of ten men or the ability to control minds. He wasn't a seadweller that could survive under extreme pressures. He wasn't a rustblood, a copperblood, or a yellowblood with psionics to protect himself. He wasn't even a greenblood of any shade that could physically avoid whatever outcome was building before him. All he was, all he'd ever been, was a mutated freak, descended of the Signless, and the only gift he had was his sermon.

"By the Mother's blood, I beg you, friends, hold, stop, fight no more. Whatever horrors from the Farthest Ring that have invaded your minds, let them be forgotten, pushed back to the darkness from wence they came. No terrorbeast lives here. No monster to jump out of the shadows. No undead to drink the blood from your veins. This place is safe, and by the mercy of my brothers you will be healed. Within the chambers of my home you will be cleansed. By the love of my Disciple your hate shall be washed away and you shall be born again anew from the loins of my mother. Breathe easy, dearest friends, for here beneath my watchful eye, you are safe. You are loved. You are free."

It was a faint hope, and his voice was even fainter, barely above a whisper as he recited the Rite of Freedom from the Book of the Signless. He was unaware that he stepped forward, one hand across his chest, the other raised in askance, begging for the peace he hoped still rested underneath the violence.

Kurloz finally seemed to respond. His head raised, his white, flashing eyes turning slowly until they landed on Kankri. They stared, unseeing for a moment, before the purple pupil's appeared.

The power calmed, starting at his horn tips and then sweeping out of his body, leaving him to collapse onto his side, twitching as he uncurled from his moirail and pushed him in Kankri's direction.

_DoC, kAn,_ he transmitted weakly.  _HuRt BaD...cAn'T...HiGhBlOoD...mOnStErS...tUnA...hE nEeDs HeLp._

It took the preacher several moments of blinking before he realized what he was being told, and by then the doctor and the copperbloods had rushed forward, picked up Mituna and while one carried the tiny psionic to his hospital bed, the other bent down to help Kurloz over to the windowseat, which was padded as well. Around him the three others fussed and fixed and talked in the medical sub-language that all hospital staff used, while Kankri himself slumped back into the chair where he'd been sitting before. He focused on his hands, a burning around both wrists and the sigils on his bracers were glowing the red-hot smolder of fresh-forged steel. He was dumbstruck. His words? Had he done that? Or had it been the psionic energy finally petering out to nothing? He didn't know. It was too close to call.

Kurloz cooled his raw flesh against the windowpanes, eyes sliding shut again.  _ThAnKs KaN_ , his chucklevoodoos mumbled to him.  _i HeArD yOu. ThAnKs FoR lEaDiNg Me BaCk...FrOm..._

His voice faded into nothing as his body relaxed and he slipped into unconsciousness, exhausted from overworking of his voodoos and the battle to bring Mituna back to himself.

When Latula arrived, a chorus of hospital workers on her heels because she used her skateboard to get down the halls to Mituna's room faster, Kankri was still shell-shocked. She opened the door, and he got to his feet. If she said something to him, he didn't hear her. He stumbled out of the room, too crowded for the revelation of what had happened to play out comfortably in his head. He leaned against the wall for a while. Someone shoved a cup of teafee in his hands. At some point, he didn't know how much later, the doctor and his orderlies left the room, and a different pair of nurses entered. Eventually, Kankri pushed off from the wall, still clutching the cup that was miraculously empty now, and left the hospital. How he got back to his mother's bakery he wasn't entirely sure, though logic said he had to have driven the monastery's van. But the fog around his senses didn't clear until the scent of baking sugar, flour, eggs, and chocolate assaulted his nose. Then he blinked several times and looked thoroughly confused as to what had all just happened.


	3. Chapter 3

He found himself seated in a booth, Cronus next to him and stroking his hair. "Oi there chief, ya back vwith us again? You returned yet? Yer vworryin' yer mother somethin' awvful y'know."

"I...I..." The acolyte looked up into the forever of the seatroll's violet eyes, and spoke with wonder. "I stopped him, I brought them back. I did. Me. With just my voice. I...I  _reached_ them."

Cronus blinked. "Sorry? Brought vwho back? Reached vwho? I'm afraid I'm not followvin'. Mrs. Maryam, he's back vwith us, can vwe get somethin' to put in him so he doesn't vwander avway again?"

The baker plopped a thick, moist, chocolate muffin down in front of the redblood, and moved back around the counter shaking her head and muttering under her breath. Kankri dove on the thing like a man starved, and spoke between bites.

"Kurloz. Chucklevoodoos. I stopped them. He got lost. But I brought him back. Just like the Deliverer did to the Mirthful Messiah. He spoke the sacred words and touched him, and thus the first Moirallegience was born. And trolls the universe over learned the meaning of balance between the quadrants. But that was me today! I did that! Kurloz called to Mituna, but Mituna was in so deep he couldn't be heard by anyone else. So, I had to call to Kurloz. Oh my Gog!" Kankri's eyes went wide for a moment, "I hope that doesn't mean we committed pale infidelity, because I don't feel that way about Kurloz at all! Not that he's not a nice guy or anything but Mituna needs him. And, Signless help me, Porrim's gonna kill me! Er...that is to say, she's going to be very triggered if it was infidelity and not just one Brother helping another in a time of need. Do you think I should stay away from Kurloz for a while to make sure he didn't get the wrong idea? Or maybe to make sure Porrim understands that I wouldn't cheat on her?"

"Baby, yer an acolyte. Helpin' yer fellowv sentient creature is vwhat ya do," Cronus assured, relaxing with a smile. "You said he's a brother, right? So he's either a Mirthful Messiah or he's a fellowv acolyte: in both cases, you're just fine because it vwas just the favwor a one man a religion to another. Helpin' those ya can vwhen they're in need, like the Signless said. I'm sure your girl vwill knowv it's not infidelity," he finished confidently, getting up to move to the other side of the booth.

Everything came rushing back to him all at once then, and without thinking one of his hands, still decorated in the symbols of his faith, shot out to grab the seadweller's shirt. "Where are you going? You don't have to move. I thought..." A flash of worry crossed his brow, and he let go again. "Nevermind. I...obviously overstepped my boundaries. My apologies."

"Goin'? I'm not goin' anyvwhere except to get somefin ta drink. This sounds like quite somefin an' I could use a vwetter throat. You vwant anyfin?"

The seatroll caught the dropping hand and caressed the fingers with his claws, letting the other know he wasn't going anywhere and no boundaries had been crossed. He was so adorable and insecure even in the wake of a Signless-like achievement.

Kankri shook his head, "I'm fine. Thank you. Just a little shaken, and my moirail won't be home for another couple of weeks. She's in Suite Liques protesting the enforced dichotomy of gender on the carapaces in the area. I won't get into her whole thing, but she's needed up there to talk some sense into the misguided masses who seem to think that just because only half of the carapaces can bear young, that half must be weaker or less valuable, to be taken advantage of and paid lower wages. It's a ridiculous concept. It shouldn't matter if you can or cannot bear a grub. So, she needs to be there. I'm just a little...overwhelmed at the moment. I'm sorry if I worried you."

The violetblood's eyes twinkled as he bent closer. "Oh don't apologize fer vworryin'  _me_. It's yer dear mama you done scared outta her vwits. I'd be apologizin' ta  _her_ if I was in yer shoes, Kan."

"Eh..." The redblood flushed deeply, "She's probably going to box my ears for scaring her like that, but I...don't even know how I got home. Was it Latula? It couldn't have been Kurloz, he was so torn up at the end of it that he just passed out." He looked up just as Dolorosa slammed her fist into the ball of bread dough she was kneading on the heavy wooden table behind the counter, and he flinched. "I'll...uh...I'll apologize to her later...when she's not quite so..." Another punch to the pre-bread, shockwaves radiating up the plump baker's arm. "Triggered?"

Cronus also winced. "Yeah. Knowv vwhat? Vwe should go somevwhere...else." He cast another look at the baker and shivered. "Uhm, does this Kurloz havwe anybody vwho'll be vworried if he doesn't show back up at home soon? A matesprit maybe?"

"Oh Gog! Meulin!" Kankri bit his lip, eyes focused inward for a moment, "Do you have a place to stay yet? And is it far from here if you do?"

A semi-webbed hand waved off the questions. "Aye, aye, c'mon let's go. Business before pleasure."

The priest in training nodded once and when he stood his profession was more obvious. Even if he hadn't been descended of the Vantas line, the redblood would have been born to lead. He had a hand curled against his lips, and the seadweller could practically read his thoughts as they exited the bakery. Kankri led them around to one of the fire escapes that framed the little courtyard of the U-shaped building, and began to climb, murmuring things under his breath. He shook his head a few times, but seemed to have his focus centered by the time they reached the third floor. He stopped along the metal railing, and pressed a button outside the window that made the inside of the apartment light up in various places.

The oliveblood was pacing her apartment, fidgeting worriedly, and when the lights came on she jumped and hissed, slamming the window open to drag Kankri inside, Cronus remaining on the fire escape. He had no wish to tangle with one of  _that_ line when she was this stressed.

<<Easy, Mew-mew, easy. He's ok.>> Kankri signed immediately. <<He had to work his voodoos on Mituna. So he had to stay overnight with them. You need to calm down though, it's not good for your grub.>>

<<I FELT that and it was more than just a little working his voodoos! What happened to my matesprit! I'll calm down when I know why Kurloz's power resonated in me and felt like he was screaming!>> She signed back frantically, lips pulled back in a worried, angry hiss as her pacing finally stalled.

The acolyte reached out to stroke the side of her face, tucking a curl of wild hair behind her ear, then he brought his hand back, <<I don't know exactly what he had to do, but somehow he said he brought Mituna's mind back. And before they passed out 'Tuna looked at me. He actually saw me. I won't know how well Kurloz succeeded until I talk to Latula, but I have hope, Mew-mew.>>

Her hands went to her mouth as her eyes filled with tears. <<He did?>>

Her matesprit had been truly torn down to the soul while his moirail was in such horrible pain, was lost to them, and to have him back...it would be wonderful.

<<Like I said, I don't know how well, but he did. It was the most I've seen the real Mituna since the assault.>> He smiled and patted the top of her head. <<Now...I know you haven't eaten. What would you like for breakfast?>>

<<Oh...I don't know. I don't care! How could I care about food when such things are happening all around me?>>

Cronus peered in at the lack of wild gestations, earfins cautiously back.

Kankri leveled her with a look, <<You know you have to eat.>> And he reached out a hand to touch her bump, <<This is the most important time for your grub, if his egg isn't big enough it might crack early. With all the stress you've been under since GHB's arrest and the suspicion on Kurloz and everything, you need to keep your strength up. You do still want him, don't you?>>

She bristled up with pure antagonistic fury like a threatened meowbeast. <<OF COURSE I STILL WANT MY GRUB! HOW DARE YOU EVEN INSINUATE THAT KANKRI! I COULD CLAW OUT YOUR EYES FOR EVEN SUGGESTING IT!>>

Almost before he knew what he was doing, Cronus was in the window and had an arm around Meulin's waist, shooshing her and papping one horn. "Nowv you calm dowvn. You vwant to miscarry?"

<<M-m->> she couldn't even finish the word, just sagged into his arms and whimpered, claws digging into his arm until purple rivulets were dripping, but relaxed into the larger troll's chest.

"You get her that food, Kankri. I'll keep her calm."

"WHOA! I didn't-! I swear!" The redblood fell back, tripping over his own robes in his haste to get away, but completely forgetting to sign until he'd landed.

<<I swear I didn't mean it that way, Mew-mew! I'd never suggest you didn't were every bit the devoted, dedicated mother you are! I just worry about you! Especially with Kurloz having been laid up for so long. You're living here, in the apartment he shared with his dad, by yourself. You're my sister! I'm allowed to be concerned! Mom would skin me if I wasn't. I'm sorry.>>

Then he looked up at the violetblood who'd captured so much of his attention that night, "How...?" He shook his head, looked back to Meulin, and shook his head again, thoroughly confused. Then he picked himself up, brushed off his robes and spoke while signing, "I'm going to go make a sandwich, you two relax here, if you wouldn't mind."

Meulin gave him a weak glare. <<You do that. But first tell me where the seadweller shooshpapping me came from. He didn't come from thin air.>>

"Awvwv, I'm flattered, dovwe."

<<I can still bite your fingers off, stranger.>>

"Right. Shooshpapping."

<<This is Cronus. Meenah and Eridan's brother. How can you understand him?! You aren't reading his lips, you can't see them, and he's not signing.>> Kankri bit his lip, keeping his distance just in case she got away from him.

<<I hear him, stupid. Now get on that food before the day's stress catches up and my stomach is too upset to actually handle it,>> she ordered, relaxing (minimally) under the comforting claws.

The body temperature was low, like her Kurloz, like her Gamzee, and it helped soothe her immensely. The claws were sharp and the voice that vibrated through her the same way Chucklevoodoos did...she heaved a sigh and Cronus shooed Kankri between comforting pats.

It was a little unsettling, and the acolyte couldn't exactly put his finger on why the sight of the seadweller cuddling his half-sister bothered him so much. The emotion showed up on his face however, as he moved off into the kitchenette and started gathering the ingredients he needed for the sandwich his adopted mother always used to pack as many calories as she could into the one going to be eating it.

His sister tilted his head. That expression...she could place it. She saw it on her own and her mate's face often. But on Kankri...

<<Jealousy does not become him,>> she commented to the seadweller, making him startle.

"Vwhat?"

<<Jealousy. He doesn't wear it well. And I'm not sure why he is, since he has a palemate of his own and certainly doesn't need to be jealous of you playing pale for me for the sake of the grub.>>

"But that makes no sense. Howv could he be? People don't get jealous over flushflings."

<<Kankri doesn't do 'flings',>> she retorted with a  _sharp_  jab to the seadweller's ribs, remembering too late that was where one of their twin sets of gills were stationed. Her purplebloods didn't have those, and she had to wait until he stopped choking on air to continue. <<And Kankri certainly doesn't play at anything as serious as a concupiscent quadrant.>>

"Caliginous isn't his thing? I thought it was everybody's thing."

<<Not everyone has a breeding season, seadweller. Without culling season that instinct died out in a lot of us.>>

"Oh sure, rub it in why don't you."

The catgirl's half-brother returned, bearing sandwich, grubchips, and a tall glass of workbeast milk sweetened with carob paste. He waited until he was directly in front of her before speaking, so she could read his lips, "Here we go. Where do you want to eat, here or at the table?"

She growled and snatched up the lot, shoved Cronus back into a chair so he was now her official seat, and tore into it.

"I think here's fine," Cronus replied dryly.

<<I hear seadweller fingers are almost as tasty as forest beast liver.>>

"Right, back to shooshpapping!"

He resumed his work, now pouting. Even knowing her repeated threats were mostly in play, he'd seen enough and been through enough to genuinely fear that sort of retaliation.

Kankri continued to sign and speak for the benefit of both parties, "Biting off my friend's fingers will not get you any of the scones Mom left you that are currently warming in your toasting box."

She immediately perked. <<There are scones?!>>

"Of course there are scones, but you have to finish the sandwich first. You know they're better warm." The reblood smiled and took a seat on the other end of the couch. "Since we're waiting, Meulin meet Cronus, Cronus meet my half-sister, Meulin. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you didn't know each other but it does boggle my mind that you grew up here, Cronus, and you never crossed paths."

<<Oh I know who Cronus is. I just didn't believe you at first because he hasn't started hitting on me.>>

"HEY!"

She giggled and swallowed almost half her sandwich at once, washing it down with a gulp of milk. <<Well I WAS one of the few who was already matched up back then.>>

"Evwen I'm not such a cad as to hit on somebody vwhen I'm out vwith somebody a'ready!"

Meulin's eyes lit up. <<Kankri? You're with Kankri right now?>>

Pink flooded the acolyte's cheeks and he stammered a bit, clearly flustered by the question, "I...I...I...oh look! The scones are done!"

He absconded to the kitchenette faster than he ever had in his life, even faster than when she'd been threatening to blind him! He didn't know what it was about that question that bothered him so. He was fucking Kankri Signless Vantas the Third damnit! He didn't get tongue-tied! EVER! He was practically hatched able to speak! People yelled at him to shut up. So, what was it about the suave, handsome, talented...he swooned against the counter. Oh fucknuts...he had it bad!

<<Oh my god you shut him up. You shut him up, for the first time since he was hatched he absconded instead of staying to preach. You're marrying him.>>

Cronus choked. "Vwait, vwhat?! That's a little fast there darlin'!"

<<I don't care, you are obviously special to my brother->>

"That don't mean he vwants ta- Oh shaddup an' eat yer food!"

She laughed between bites, the last of it disappearing and then licking the grubchip residue from her fingers.

"I will only give you this plate if you promise me that my quadrants are off limits for discussion, Mew-mew. Deal?" Kankri held the plate with the steaming, toasted grubberry scone where she could smell it but not reach it without getting up out of her comfy spot.

She pouted. <<Oh! Oh fine, no quadrant discussions… this evening,>> she added, then holding out both hands for the plate. <<Now gimme!>>

The acolyte gladly gave over the dessert and plopped back down on the couch, quiet in spite of not talking about his love life. It was strange, seeing him without a sermon on his lips. He looked at his hands, playing with the red ribbing around his hips. There was a thread that was coming loose and he made the mental note to fix it when he returned to the monastery that morning but even so he found that he just couldn't help the way he was fixated on it. The bubbling discomfort surrounding the way his sister was using Cronus as cushion and substitute just had him running around in circles within his own mind, somewhat oblivious to the world around him, except for every subtle shift the seadweller made.

Said seadweller was starting to shift uncomfortably, trying to desperately find a way to settle the pregnant troll's weight so it wasn't cutting off bloodflow in his legs so much. With any luck, after she was done eating she'd want to sleep, and then he could-

<<I'd better rest. More than usual, after the night I've had. You two put me to bed,>> she demanded.

She was getting to the point where getting up on her own was difficult and now she was starting to enter the crash of exhaustion from her earlier spike of adrenaline and panic.

"I'll make sure to come get you if I hear anything between now and tomorrow." Kankri stood, and took a hold of her hands to help her up. "With any luck, Kurloz will be back by then and I can bring him over here to see you."

Cronus helped push her up with firm hands on her back, using his entire body as a backboard to move her.

<<Ah...yeah. We can hope,>> she smiled sleepily, relaxed with a strong male on either side helping her get to her pile.

"Sleep well, Mew-mew."

Her half-brother placed a kiss on her forehead, stroking her hair back, though careful to avoid her horns. Then he pulled the tanned pelt of some wild workbeast over her and made his way back to the fire escape, rubbing his temple. It was only just two in the morning, and he was tired. Thus far it had been an emotional roller coaster tonight, and he had the feeling it wasn't even close to being over.

Cronus trailed after him quietly, and after shutting the window heaved a long sigh that seemed to come up from his toes and make his body sag. In fact he did sag against the railing of the fire escape.

"Dare I ask vwho else vwe gotta talk to 'bout vwhat vwent dowvn at the hospital?" he inquired, suddenly looking as tired as Kankri felt.

"That depends, how much does your mom care about Mituna? I was always under the impression that after she laid his egg, she sort of gave it to his dad and left them alone. Something about them being pseudo-kismesis because she was in heat and your dad was out at sea for a perigree? I never got the full story." Kankri also leaned against the railing, his head tilted back to look up at the stars.

"It's complicated. Tyrians have a vweakness for psionics and they had a hatefling. Mom's been vworried about him, but she can vwait 'til tomorrow to go see him. But yeah, he vwas sort of a surprise, since dad vwasn't immediately avwailable to take up Mom's lust, she vwent for the next most attractive thing: a Captor." The violet sighed again and mussed his hair, closing his eyes. "One hell of a night for a date, Vwantas."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to keep blowing you off like that. I had actually been on my way to see Latula when I met you and...you just..." Crimson, heat-filled, eyes dropped to actively run down the streamlined frame of the seadweller next to him. "This isn't something I can say about anyone else...you make me speechless."

The taller troll's mouth pulled to the side in a sardonic smirk. "Vwell, glad I can say I'vwe achievwed something in this ridiculously pitiful life I'vwe livwed." He stretched, rolled his shoulders and made them crack, then smirked and said, "I left my guitar in the diner. Shall vwe?"

"Yeah, sure." The redblood began his descent, "You know, you never did answer my question."

"Vwhat question vwas that?"

Came the polite inquiry from the air next to him. Cronus had grabbed onto the railing and flipped over it, and was now standing on the railing of the landing below, putting his face roughly even with Kankri's ankles. He was going to just jump to the ground, but that would interrupt the conversation.

"I asked you before we came up here if you had a place around here. And if so, if it was close?"

"Oh that. The short answver is 'no'. I don' have a place. Nothin' but portable property for the likes of me," he replied, wriggling his earfins- and the studs in them.

The whole of the wealth he owned (if it could be called wealth) was such 'portable property'. When living entirely in the water, more or less, anything other than food was just a waste.

As the last ladder was all that kept them from the ground, Kankri waited until Cronus had jumped down completely, before leaning over the rail with a sly curl to his lips. "Then just how did you expect to get under my robes if you've no place to show me a good time?"

The shark grin that was directed up at him, combined with slightly-glowing purple eyes, were quite a sight.

"Vwell, svweethorns, I vwas plannin' on you pickin' that. Since you stole all the rest of my thunder already by makin' the first move an' then comin' on strong."

"I..." Kankri faltered, and looked nervous, "Was that ok? I don't want to push you away. It's just...I've never met anyone who could do to me what you do, you know?"

"I do believe I'vwe already said I like it. A lot. It's nice to be on the other end of the short stick fer a change," he chuckled, leaning over and ruffling Kankri's hair. "And I'll admit," he popped the collar of his jacket theatrically, "There are no men like me."

"I'd hazard there aren't any women like you either." Signless help him, the acolyte actually giggled, "But then, there's no one like me either. Or at least none that I've met so far."

The utterly melting look Cronus gave him could have come from an infant meowbeast just given tuna for the first time.

"An' there's absolutely nothin' vwrong vwith that," he replied, slipping an arm around Kankri's shoulder and laying a light kiss on his temple.

"I think we've established by now that you could have more than that if you wanted."

The redblood's hand was proportioned for holding a pen and touching the masses metaphorically, small and delicate, with flexible fingers and a broad palm, and currently splayed across the center of the violetblood's chest, gently tracing the dip between his pectoral muscles. He watched it for a few moments, then looked up, open expression and a combination of desire, hope and something that was entirely too new to be called pity.

"You don't have to hesitate with me, you know. Please...don't hold back?"

Cronus grinned.

"That wwasn't hesitation," he murmured, tilting the other's chin up just a bit. "That wwas a friendly wwarnin'."

His cool lips met Kankri's just as the other strong arm slid around his waist and picked the smaller troll off the ground entirely.

It was almost instantaneous that the redblood wrapped his legs around the other's waist and his arms around the broad swimmer's shoulders. He actually gave a sigh of pleasure into the kiss, eyes closed and relishing the taste.

A chilled tongue teased at the seam of Kankri's mouth, big hands supporting him under the glute and kneading as an aroused, deep growl rumbled up and out of his thorax.

Parting his lips gave way for his own purr in response, but after a few moments of tracing the other's fangs with his tongue, the acolyte pulled back, "The courtyard isn't...exactly...oh fuck it!"

He didn't even given the seadweller a moment to answer him before diving back into an open-mouthed kiss, and rolling his hips unconsciously. The violetblood didn't just look amazing, his taste, his scent, the feeling of his muscles against Kankri's smaller frame, everything about Cronus made him want to sing, or possibly just pail him senseless. It was downright addicting.

A deep thrumming started up in Cronus' chest that vibrated them both as he stumbled back from the force of his kiss and then promptly turned into the hungry predator he was, devouring the redblood's mouth absolutely voraciously.

Then his earfin twitched- who the living fuck was whistling?

As the sound penetrated Kankri's own lust, the purr became a growl. He pulled back again, eyes darting around the courtyard for the offender who  _dared_  interrupt them. A small part of his thinkpan questioned why he was so aggressive all of a sudden, but that part was squashed quickly and brutally, as he used his smaller size to his advantage with the muscular seatroll. One hand was tucked up behind a flexible earfin, stroking the base in a soothing and possessive way. It didn't even register that he was acting the part of protector, for all that he was just over half as tall and maybe weighed half as much as Cronus.

The aquatic troll craned his neck at first, but when one of those hands found the sensitive spot at the base of his earfin he melted into the attention, holding onto Kankri tighter.

From one of the apartment windows, a blueblood in an odd helmet was hanging out the window. "Glad to see  _someone_ appreciates that fine hunk of fishflesh, brother!"

Both of Cronus' ear flicked up, then furled and started to burn deep, deep purple as he wheeled around.

"THAT IS THE VWORST MOTHERGLUBBIN' FISHPUN ATTEMPT EVER TEH TORMENT MAH EARS YEH LOUSY 'EAP A 'ORSEFLESH! VWAY TEH KILL TH'FUCKIN' MOOD!"

His face was purple and twisted with disgust and he shuddered from head to foot, and not in the good way either.

Horus immediately seemed contrite. "Oh...I'm sorry, Cronus! I'll stick to my horse puns. I didn't mean to kill your mood, especially not right before you showed my brother a good time."

"Vwhere is a vwall I can bash my head in on," he muttered, groaning as he removed one hand from Kankri's glute to facepalm. "Horse puns an' fish puns must nevwer cross again. Nevwer. God that was horrible."

Kankri froze, then slumped against the broad chest in front of him, still growling lowly. First Meulin...Now, Horuss?! And of course, it would have to be his half-brother. Not only was the blueblood bigger and stronger, he was also almost as chatty at times. He appreciated that most of the neighborhood that had known Cronus before he left would probably want to say hello now that he was back, but...he found him! Didn't that mean something? Honestly, being the smallest troll in the family downright sucked.

Groaning, Cronus set Kankri on his feet and took a deep breath. "Okay. Okay. Vwell, my mood is officially deader than a sea snake. Let's go get my guitar and maybe a bite to eat. Before anyone  _else_  shouts out their vwindowvs," he added with a glare at the now-shut and blinded window from which Horuss had popped out.

"Yeah, sure. But if you really don't want to be interrupted again, going back to Mom's bakery really isn't the right place to go. Especially now. The early-shifters will be getting off work. So it'll probably be crowded soon." The acolyte rubbed the back of his neck, shifting his hips a little to dissolve the sensation of heat in his pelvis.

"Yeah, but I can't leavwe my Paula. Vwe'll just pop in an' out, then maybe walk near the beach," the violet suggested, taking his hand and starting to walk. "Maybe I'll play you another song."

Kankri let his thumb trace over Cronus' knuckle and he smiled, "Yeah, that'd be nice."


	4. Chapter 4

The next evening found Kankri enjoying a scone and a cup of the strange human hybrid-stimulant called teafee on the bench outside his mother's cafe. He was reflecting on the previous evening, have spent the better part of his rest dreaming about the incident with Kurloz and how strange it was that he'd wanted Cronus to be there to anchor him in reality. There were other...less appropriate...dreams as well, but for the sake of keeping up appearances, he did his best to avoid thinking about those. Acolytes of the Order of the Signless were not forced into taking a vow of chastity as some of their human counterparts were, but it was one of the options Kankri had been considering before. Now, however, the very idea that he might abstain indefinitely from what was beginning to be a very powerful addiction made him shudder. His mind kept circling the idea. Could it really be possible to have the seadweller as his matesprit? Was it too soon to be thinking about that? No one else ever had made him feel the way Cronus did, and there was something there, some otherworldly force, drawing him in. One of the primary lessons the acolytes were taught was that the Signless was as much a follower of instincts as the Mirthful Messiahs. So for something like this to have been so powerful as to have disrupted his dreaming meditations...it was hardly something he could ignore.

So lost in thought was he that when the skateboarding tealblood came grinding down the sidewalk calling his name, he didn't even look up until she'd wrapped herself around him, spinning him in circles and jabbering on about something or other that was being said too fast for him to hear correctly. He flailed a bit and this devolved her momentum into an ungainly topple of limbs and four-wheeled device until Kankri was on his rear with Latula sprawled across his lap in what could have been a horribly compromising position if it hadn't been for the dizzying nausea erasing the bulge problem he'd developed while inadvertently thinking about Cronus. He opened his mouth to speak to her, only to be drenched by the mug of teafee that he'd flung into the air at the onset of his assault. He drew a deep breath a second time to exhale sharply when the scone bounced off of his head as well, getting crumbs in his hair.

At that point, the acolyte had to close his eyes and mutter, "Signless, thy patience is thy strongest virtue, lend me some that I might get through this without triggering anyone."

"Aw, jeez, Kankles, I didn't mean ta spill yer breakfast all over ya, but I've got the raddest news! You'll never believe it! You were there and you'll never guess! I'm tellin' ya! THIS IS SO RAD!" The tealblood in his lap bounced up onto his legs, pinning him to the street as she pressed her chest mounds against his face.

This made his voice muffled and nasally when he spoke, "Latoola I c'n see that yoo are very excited by all oov this but coould yoo kindly remooved yoour self froom my persoon soo I might be abled too breed propoorly?"

"What?" She pulled back with a confused look on her face, her button nose scrunched up, canting her crimson glasses slightly to the side. "I can't understand ya when ya've got yer face buried in my titties! Silly!"

"Yes...well...it would appear that your chest mounds had some idea of invading my personal face space this evening. Now that they are a bit more under control, would you like to share this most 'rad' of news before we all pop a vascular tunnel from the anticipation?" The redblood tugged the bottom of his shirt down so that it once again covered the top third of his thorax and was in line with his abdomen constrictor as it was supposed to be.

"Huh?" Latula tilted her head for a moment before a proverbial lightbulb came on, "OH! It's about 'Tuna! He's himself! Or well, mostly! Whatever you and Kurlz did yesterday worked! He looked at me today when he woke up AND HE KNEW ME! HE EVEN KISSED ME! ISN'T THAT JUST SO RAD!?"

Kankri just barely managed to avoid wincing at the volume of his friend's voice, "That's wonderful, 'Tula. I'm sure the others will be just as pleased. Can I ask why you found it necessary to bodily assault me with the news without sounding either ungrateful for having been given it, or coming off as belittling of just how momentous this occasion is?"

"Oh that's simple, dude! Father Light heard 'bout it and wanted me to come get ya! He said somethin' about takin' some test or somethin'. I dunno but it's all good, he was hella chill." She literally jumped to her feet with a toothy grin, "I gotta bounce, Kankles, gonna go pick up my man!" Then without waiting for his reply, she flipped her skateboard over with the toe of one foot, and took off on it, screaming to the neighborhood, "Praise Jegus, my flush is comin' home!"

Smiling softly, a certain fellow acolyte appeared before his Brother, one purple-clawed, gray hand outstretched.

_< <CoMe, BrOtHeR mOsT MeRcIfUl. ThErE aRe PlAnS fOr Us CoMiNg To FrUiT aNd I dOn'T tHiNk YoU wAnT tO mEeT fAtHeR lIgHt In ThIs StAtE>>,_ the curly-haired troll teased, his eyes lit up with excitement.

He had already been told he was wanted and knew exactly for whom. He was a true and faithful follower of the Messiahs and knew the Command: every Messiah had a pair among the Signless. To be summoned at the same time as his brother in training...he had found his HOLY MOIRAIL.

Though he took the hand, Kankri was mindful not to put his weight on it. "Are you sure you're up to it, Brother? The Trials of Seclusion are difficult, even when in full health, and you are still, if you'll pardon my mentioning it, healing from the accident."

The other's grin stretched wider, and his stitches pulled, threatening to tear.

_< <BrOtHeR, I cOuLd AnD wOuLd Do ThIs If I wAs ThReE iNcHeS fRoM dEaTh AnD uNaBlE tO mOvE. We'Re MaKiNg ThIs HaPpEn BrO.>>_

"Easy, easy, you'll pop something." But the redblood was grinning as well.

It was a terrible honor to be brought up for consideration to take one's vows, and the pair had only been studying together for a perigree. Even before that, Kankri had only been an active member of the Order of the Signless for the last third of an orbit. So, to have reached that level of devotion in such a short period of time...if his horns were bigger he'd have sworn he could feel the 'voodoos radiating from his friend. It made his pump biscuit pound in his thorax, and his cheeks hurt from the elation he was feeling. He didn't even consider anything other than lacing their fingers together and setting off for the Conjoined Cathedral, the central hub for their combined faiths.

When they got there the Subjugglator pulled Kankri aside into an ablution chamber and, with the greatest of care, divested him of his food stained dress and washed him up. It was a ritual the Messiahs insisted on. It was why he would pay any cost to be here on this day. They were BROTHERS OF SOUL from now until the end of paradox space, a close platonic connection that transcended mortal limitations. This was the first establishment of that brotherhood.

They would never have a perfect partnership, never be entirely complete, without the rituals. Kankri being dirtied when Kurloz went to retrieve him was a good omen, because it allowed him to tend to him this way.

Messiahs protected, enforced, and Raged. In return, their Brothers directed their Rage, protection, and told them what they needed to enforce.

This was what Kurloz explained as he worked, so Kankri wouldn't be uncomfortable.

The redblood knew his part, though when it came to the smears of crimson on his thighs he couldn't help the blush that creeped up from his neck, across his cheeks, nose and the tips of his ears. Otherwise though, he held still, spread-eagled to ease access for his purpleblooded counterpart. Though every Brother of Death was partnered with a Father of Life, in contrast very few Fathers of Life were given Brothers of Death. So, the fact that this was happening at all was elating, and it pushed everything from his mind but the completion of the ritual. Once he was again adorned with the traditional garb of his station, it was his turn to cleanse his Brother, washing off and reapplying the skull mask-with the proper day alignment noted beforehand-changing the dressings on the wounds he was still healing, and helping the larger troll into his own ceremonial bodysuit adorned with the bones of the dead. All told the First Bonding took three hours to complete, and at the end of it, Kankri stood back with a grin that matched the painted version across from him. No words were needed at that time, but he did offer his forearm in a small token of both gratitude and hope.

The thickly muscled, and heavily splinted, matching forearm was hooked gingerly with his, Kurloz seeming to swell with pride, joy, and a kind of strange shine any human would say was love. Platonic love of the highest degree.

His grin, both painted and physical, was wide and delighted as he inclined his head towards the door. Were they ready?

Of course they were. But it was the Light's job to lead the way.

Kankri nodded once, and led them out into the cathedral proper. The altar was half crimson, half indigo, with embellishments in gold and silver depicting the balance of life and death between the two. The Signless, the Deliverer, and the Mirthful Messiahs were carved out of stone along the back wall in triad with their weapons of choice poised ready to strike down those that abandoned the balance between them. The Signless, with His all-seeing wisdom at the peak of the triad, His Son, the Deliverer to the right, and the dual-faces of the Mirthful Messiahs to the left. The image was repeated in the tops of the stained glass windows, though the majority of the panes depicted the important moments in the faith: The Birth of the Signless, His Crucifixion, The Revelation of the Mirthful Messiahs, The Birth of the Divine Moirallegience, The Triumph of the Deliverer, The Beginning of the Great Time of Peace, and others. The pews were bedecked in red and purple velvet, and at the front of the massive church the leaders of their faith gathered, framing Father Light as their mentor.

"Come, youngbloods! Today is a Mirthful Day. The day you begin your ascension to the ranks of the great spiritual leaders who have come before you." He was tall, a ceruleanblood with copperblood horns that forked at the tips, and his bright voice filled the cathedral with good feelings, "I trust you have completed your first rituals and are ready to climb to your towers of seclusion?"

"We are, Father." Kankri knelt at the older troll's feet, bending his head.

"Good, good." The priest touched the back of the redblood's scalp, and raised his hand to do the same to the middle of Kurloz' forehead. "Brother Void will guide you, Acolyte Kurloz, and I will bring my faithful pupil personally. Come, the night grows long, and you both have much to meditate on before the heat of the day begins to addle your thinkpans."

A troll too large to be blue came forward, dressed in the typical black robes of the Void, with the Mirthful Paint across his face. He merely nodded his wide-set, curling almost-highblood horns and turned to the dark purple door to the left of the altar that led down to the basement seclusion, from which Kurloz would have to reach out with his 'voodoos to Kankri, who was being led to the bright red door to the right of the altar and up to the highest room in the tallest spire of the cathedral. The redblood would be exposed to the brutal sun for seven days, and it was Kurloz' job to control the heat around his body, while his mind wandered among the Dream Bubbles in search of the Signless. Thus, the purpleblood would be chained in the deepest dungeons without nourishment or distraction, and only his 'voodoos for company. It would be Kankri's job to ensure that his Brother stayed sane the entire seven nights while still maintaining his level of deep meditation. Very few pairs made it to this point, and even fewer made it through the challenge in full control of their faculties. The next week would be in a word Hell, if Hell was a thing that the trolls had any concept of understanding.

However, while Kankri's close friends knew, and of  _course_  Kurloz's flushmate was very much aware of what was going on, there was someone that had been quite forgotten. A certain violetblood that nobody had thought to inform.

And after all, why would they? Everyone knew Kankri wasn't into quadrants, other than his moirallegance-of-convenience. Cronus had only returned to town the day before, and only two people had even seen him with Kankri.

Nobody knew they were over halfway to flushed. And nobody told Cronus where Kankri had gone, leaving him restlessly combing the city. When it was starting to near dawn, Cronus was particularly irked. He'd checked every inch of town and found nothing. Not one gogdamn thing.

So, he counted how many beetles he had and went to get a little something from the cafe, hoping he'd run into the cute little redblood there.

Dolorosa was behind the counter, as usual, tonight her hair tucked up in a kerchief. It was crimson with indigo clown faces that were printed with the illusion of having been drawn by hand. Somewhere in the apartment building another mother wore the opposite, indigo with the Sigil of the Signless, as was tradition for the family members of the pair undergoing Trials. She looked up from her rolling and wiped the sweat from her forehead.

"Evening, fishcakes, hungry?"

"Ah...not really." His eyes swept the diner before coming around to Dolorosa.

He vaguely recognized the symbols on the headscarf, but its meaning wasn't one he knew. He'd still been practically a kit when he left, and then lived 90% in the water away from civilization. And when he WAS in a city...he certainly hadn't been approached by anyone wanting to teach him that kind of in-depth information, just 'save him' for a night or so.

He shrugged. "If you have any coffee on hand, I vwouldn't mind a drink before sunup. But I vwouldn't vwant you to go out of your vway, if you don't havwe any forget it. No point in making a pot so it can sit and stale all day."

He preferred the strong, slap-in-the-face effect of coffee better than teafee. Actually he liked a lot of human things most trolls weren't into. Humans were a little freer with their things to somebody pathetic in the streets than trolls, and he's become hooked on a lot of their things. Like cigarettes.

"It's no trouble. I've a pot brewing already for all the ones keeping vigil." The jadeblood dusted her hands off, flour poofing up from her claps, and snagged a cup to fill with practiced ease. "You look like you could use an ear, Nussie. What's gnawing at your thinkpan?"

"Oh, nothing particular," he lied with the ease of a skilled con artist, putting his beetles on the counter before taking the cup. "It's just...vwait, vwigil? Vwhat happened, did 'Tuna slip back into the coma? Oh christ a'might doan tell me 'e died," his accent thickened abruptly as his eyes darted up to hers.

"No. The Trials. Didn't you see the smoke from the cathedral today?" She make quick work of the biscuit dough, slamming the cutter into it faster than a hoofbeast's pounding gait. "As long as the smoke stays white the pair are fine. We take turns watching it to make sure it doesn't turn black or grey." She popped the tray of pre-snacks into the oven and snagged her own mug of coffee, along with the timer from the back of the oven, to take a seat in the worn booth across from him.

"Uh...okay?" He scratched his head, fingers just behind one horn. "Vwhat are they trying? Somebody do somefin against the teachings or vwhat?"

He sipped his coffee, now discomfited. What the hell was going on that Dolorosa felt the need to watch vigil over the proceedings?

The troll the whole neighborhood called 'Mom' stared at him for a minute to see if he was joking. "Did that trip 'round the world up and addle your thinkpan, boy?! Don't you remember anything of your grubschool lessons about the Signless and the Mirthful Messiahs?"

He gave her a flat look.

"I didn't go to grubschool, remember? Amporas are homeschooled. So we can survwivwe alone in the sea if necessary. Y'knowv, like I did?"

She smacked the side of his head, "Don't you sass me, wriggler! I can still haul you over my knee, don't think I can't!"

"Owvwv! The horns, Dol, the horns!" He rubbed the one on that side, scrunching up his face as he blinked to clear his vision. Christ that lady hit hard. "I  _can_  just svwim to the next city ovwer you knowv! I'm sure  _someone_  vwould tell me there vwithout hitting me!"

"Yeah, like they did the whole time you were gone." She scoffed and took a drink of her coffee, staring off at the wall, like he wasn't even there. "When an acolyte of the Conjoined Faith gets to a certain point in his schooling he has to undergo the Trials. It's a test of physical strength, endurance, willpower, and stamina. No food, no water, no sleep, for seven days. An acolyte of the Order must meditate, seek out the Signless, and learn what it meant to be chained to the Crucifixion Stone for seven days under the harsh, brutal hatred of the Condescension and her minions. An acolyte of the Brotherhood has to reach deep into himself and bond with the Rage within, channel it, harness it, and discover the insanity that drives the Mirthful Messiah. At the end of seven days they'll either be fully-fledge priests..." She touched her bandanna, staring into her drink like it held all the answers of the universe, "Or they'll be dead."

He frowned. Deeply. And sat back.

"Dead huh. Pretty extreme trials. I can figure vwhy you'd keep vwigil. Except..." A muscle in his jaw twitched and there was a slight noise that anyone who knew a Zahhak could recognize as a tooth breaking. "...It's Kankri and Kurloz. Isn't it."

"Who else would it be?" Dolorosa reached into her pocket without thinking and pulled out a napkin for the blood she knew he'd have to spit out.

He spat tooth and blood into the napkin after taking it from her, then reached in with his fingers and wrenched out the rest of it at the root, dropping that, complete with chunks of gum, into the napkin as well. He'd grow a replacement.

"Of course it could be nobody else." He dabbed the blood from his lips delicately and then took his coffee in hand again. "They'll be okay. Makaras don't just expire and they could never allow a Vantas harm. They'll come out of it just fine." He folded the napkin around it's bundle and stood. "Dol, thanks for explaining. I need to get going, however. Dawn is almost here."

Not that he'd be sleeping.

She nodded, and watched him go, shaking her head. She sighed when the door shut, "Damn that boy. Never could get his head on straight when it came to what he was feeling. Hope he sticks around this time."

Well, the dishes weren't going to do themselves, and she had biscuits to take to Redglare. It was bad enough the legiscerator had to watch her matesprit behind bars, and her son go mute. This would be driving her crazy with worry. The jadeblood wondered if Meulin would be up there as she stood from the booth, gathered the mugs and beetles and made her way back into the kitchen, planning various treats to give her adopted son's half-sister that would keep her strength up when she waited for her matesprit.

Cronus was right, of course. No one really thought that the boys would die. Kankri was too stubborn, and Kurloz was too smart to let something like this get the better of them. Still, she wrung her hands in her apron, it was a mother's right to worry. Maybe she'd stop in to see Condesce, speaking of that.

Cronus found himself a rock where he could see the smoke trail and hear the roar of the sea and sat himself on it with his coffee and a cigarette, the fingers of one hand twisting the middle finger ring on the other around and around and around.

And when he wasn't watching the smoke, he was hunting and killing anything that swam too close.


	5. Chapter 5

Three days, no change. Porrim returned as soon as word got to her that her moirail was undergoing his Trials, and she relieved her mother in the bakery keeping up coffee, grubbuns, and biscuits for the ones who were following the smoke whenever they wandered into the cafe. Redglare hardly left her window, running her fingers over the symbol of Capricorn, her matesprit's necklace that she wore around her neck now that he was locked away. Meulin wandered past the river a few times, usually accompanied by her brother and his flushcrush. But nobody sought out the fishboy on the rock. Not even his own siblings, though that was somewhat to be expected. His younger brother was barely a wriggler, only just past his cocoon, and his older sister...well she was just a bitch. His mother almost went to him, but at the last minute she shook her head and entered the cafe instead. Then, on day four, the smoke changed. It was grey, and ominous.

It had Cronus up and moving the second he sighted it, and his earfins were flared aggressively all the way to the cafe. His eyes were very dark, and he just barely resisted demanding to know what was going on. Instead he slid into a shadowed corner at the back of the diner, listening in on everything.

If anyone knew what had happened, it would come to Dolorosa and Porrim quickly.

Most of everyone was crowded into the little diner. Pots of coffee were passing around, everyone had mugs and plates of food, but nothing was really being touched. Redglare had teal streaming down her face, and Porrim was rubbing her back.

"Now, now, big sister, we don't know it's Kurloz who's done it."

"When have you EVER seen Vantas give in on ANYTHING!?" The distraught mother actually wailed, and most of the others in the room flinched, pointedly looking away.

"Yeah, ok, true, my pale's stubborn as all fuck, but he's a wimpy sorta shrimp. Without food he coulda-" The younger jadeblood cut herself off when her mother placed a nutrition plateau between them with a distinct  _THUNK!_  "I'm sure everybody's fine. Kan's a stubborn ass, and Kurl's almost as big of a muscleheaded freak as Horseboy. Okay? One of 'em's just passed out. It happens. It's only day four, people!" The goth-punk troll's eyes landed on Cronus, "Ampora Number 2, tell everybody in here how much of idiots they're all being. A troll can go almost a perigree without food, and two weeks without water if he's gotta. Seven days ain't nothing to a pair of wastechute clogs like them, am I right?"

Cronus tilted his head, removed a pack of cigarettes from his shirt, took one out and lit it, then opened the window to take away his smoke. It was only after a few drags he actually spoke, and when he did, his voice was cultured and smooth.

"Redbloods, being smaller in height and greater in muscle mass, and purplebloods, being greatest in both height and muscle, are uniquely geared for such a Trial as one mere vweek vwithout food or vwater. Redbloods," he took another pull, "straddle the line betvween tyrian and rust, givwing them the utterly astonishing capabilities they havwe because they havwe the physical strength of a vwarmblood combined vwith the mental fortitude of a tyrian, vwho had to havwe spectacularly resilient minds in order to resist the control of the Horrorterror that used to be their Lusus."

He took another drag and tapped his ashes.

"Howvevwer, he vwill havwe been baking in the sun. To someone unused to going vwithout food or vwater and havwing been livwing an entirely nocturnal life, such a toll vwill havwe the temporary effect of unconsciousness. There is also the possibility that he has travweled far into the dreambubbles in his mediatory quest, in vwhich case his body vwould again be unconscious. It should not be a cause for alarm. Especially since this is a Vwantas, the most constitutionally hardy of all."

He ground out the remains of that cig and lit another.

"Meanvwhile, Kurloz is one of the most devwoted Brothers of the Messiahs I havwe evwer had the pleasure to meet. He takes evwery scripture to heart and I'm quite sure that he is invwesting evwerything he had in keeping Vwantas alivwe. His class is particularly suited to long, drawvn-out battles, ones that could last vweeks or evwen perigrees, and are made to vwithstand long periods of little to no food, vwater, and sleep, not to mention high stress. If anything, most likely he has found and embraced the Rage, just as he should, vwhich Vwantas may at first havwe a bit of trouble controlling. The longer the Mirthful Messiah keeps a grip on Kurloz, the vworse the potential the situation vwill get ugly, as if Vwantas cannot shooshpap him- something I sevwerely doubt, considering the closeness of their lines- he vwould havwe to be put dowvn as a loose cannon and danger to the vworld at large."

He disposed of the remains of the second cigarette, cool as a deep sea current, and folded his hands on the table.

"In short, the change in smoke color- and the resulting panic generated- is a bunch of bullshit ovwerreaction."

From somewhere across the room, which was now effectively stunned into silence, the younger of the two tyrianbloods surged to her feet, "Well, holy mackerals, the glubbin' ash-prawn went and got himself some actual, reel, think-stuff to flood his pan with. Who'da sunk it?"

Cronus rolled his eyes and lit a fourth cigarette, practically chain smoking them. "Yes, Meenah, I actually  _did_  pay attention to Mom and Dad's history lessons and lectures on troll body types. It's savwed my ass more than once, so I'm pretty damn vwell confident in them," he snorted out the smoke through his nose, earfins relaxed.

Actually, all of him was relaxed. This was an extremely forced contrivance, an act he put on, and one he'd made flawless by trial and painful error. But going through the motions helped to calm him for real.

Dolorosa, still standing next to Redglare and Porrim, raised an eyebrow but said nothing, and across the room a hand with long, fushia-painted claws reached out and bodily hauled his sister back into her seat, though she gave a yelp that was half curseword. His explanation and relaxed facade spread through the gathered others and soon soft conversation between parties rumbled through the cafe in the manner of all large gatherings. Allowing most of everyone's attention to slide away from both Cronus and the troubling idea that one of their own could be injured or suffering more than he should. Once even Dolorosa had engaged Redglare in conversation, a gangly youth, almost as tall and muscular as the seadweller slid into the booth across from him, with careful grace so as to not damage either sprawling horns, or gossamer wings.

"So," He took a drink of his own mug, "You and Kankri, eh?"

Cronus' undamaged eyebrow climbed onto his forehead. "Me and Kankri? Are you kidding? You knowv better than most I've nevwer been taken up on a quadrant offer. I only met him the day before he vwent into seclusion for his Trials."

He took yet another drag of his poison stick and sipped his coffee.

"Uh huh...and who knows you better than me?" Rufioh cocked his head a little with a soft smile. "I mean...I know you've been gone, but, uh, I still think of you as my moirail."

The violetblood's expression softened with genuine regret, respect, and tenderness as he reached over with one ringed hand and took the brownblood's in his own.

"Thanks, Rufioh. I knowv I been gone a long time, and ya vwere so small vwhen I left...yer vwings vwere barely hardened," he chuckled with a look at the magnificent appendages on his friend's...moirail's...back. "Gog damn," he shook his head, "ya vwent and grewv up vwhile I was gone, Ruf."

The blush was easy, the smile was easier, and his free hand came up to rub the back of his head, as he gave a little flutter, not much so as to avoid cramping in the booth, but enough to hear. "I'm not the only one, uh, I mean, you've been home for a day and you aren't, um, hitting on everyone. It sorta clued me in a bit. So, to repeat my question, you and Kankri, is that a thing that's happening? Or at least a thing that you want to be happening?"

"I can't evwen tell anymore if it's a real thing or if it's all a hallucination. I- Ruf," he leaned in very close as he went a little pale, "I'm in heat. It's awvful. It's vwhy I ain't been able to get too far from the vwater. I thought vwe had a thing that vwas happenin' before he vwent into his Trials, but nowv I'm really scared it vwas somethin' I dreamed up. Yannowv vwiolets are prone to hallucinations during the breeding season if there aren't any concupiscent partners avwailable. Besides. Evwerybody here's already matched up, and I don't break up quadrants," he added with a little headshake.

Amporas had an  _uncanny_  ability to tell who was in a quadrant with whom.

It was debated if it was some sort of scent thing, but Cronus had always assumed that it was because while in heat they didn't want to go after someone who was already claimed: interfering with another violets or god forbid a tyrian's mate during the breeding season would be fatal.

"Uh...oh...um..." The Taurus searched the table as if it held the answers to the predicament, then he looked up at his sometimes-palemate again, "Well...run me down how he's been, um, acting? I guess. Because you may be missing stuff. I'd never, uh, speak badly about him, but Kankri has this...well see he...it's kind of..."

From behind the copperblood someone chimed in, "He never fucking shuts up!"

"Yeah..." Rufioh winced. "I wouldn't have said it that way but, um, yeah...that's about right."

"Y'all can back the glub outta my convwersation, Meenah, I see them flared earfins! Furl those, ya eavwesdropper," he barked before returning his attention to Rufioh.

"He vwasn't that bad vwith me. Sure, he vwent on a fewv sermons, couple tangents, but hell, that's to be expected after the kind of day he had, calling back tvwo people from the Chucklevwoodoos. But, fuck me, he vwas so cute Ruf. He kept blushin', an' sayin' things that made my libido scream only ta ask if he vwas bein' too forvward an' apologize no matter howv many times I told him it vwas fine, and vwhenevwer I played for him it just...seemed to take all his breath avway. He'd stand there, jus' listenin', vwith this adorable sunset red blush and just  _look_  at me." His eyes darted back up. "Meenah! Vwhat did I JUST glubbin' say?"

"Cod! You're such a blowfish! You never glubbin' let anyone listen in! It's not like you two are even reely pale!" She flipped her hair and crossed her arms over her chest with her nose in the air like she was the one who'd been spied on.

Across the table, Rufioh shifted uncomfortably, and looked away, "Maybe we should take this outside? Someplace where others can't hear you talk."

Cronus was used to it, Meenah was his sister after all, but with Rufioh so obviously uncomfortable he merely inclined his head and put out his cigarette. "Yeah, ok. The rock I been staking out for the last four days is outta the vway, and vwith yer vwings you can get there easily. They do hold ya, right?"

"Of course! I wouldn't be Mother's son if they couldn't." The copperblood grinned and stood, almost too fast because his wide horns hooked on the window blind cord and dumped the thing down.

"UGH! Could you try to be not so laaaaaaaame when you're leaving, Rufioh? It's bad enough you're just like your mother." The ceruleanblood who happened to be both his father and Dolorosa's matesprit scoffed while she brushed off imaginary dirt spilled on the front of her shirt.

"Oh...uh...sorry, Da-uh, Mindfang." He blushed with embarassment.

"Spinny, knock it off, you know the boy can't help it!" Dolorosa to the rescue as usual, and her flushmate rolled her eyes with a disgusted expression. So, the jadeblood shook her head and smiled softly at her step-son, "No worries, Rufioh. We'd have needed it lowered in a few hours anyway. This just saves me the trouble."

He instantly brightened, "Sure thing, Ms. M."

Cronus reached over and took the warmblood's hand with a bit of a smile. "Hey. Let's get goin' before Meenah sticks her dorsal fin where it ain't vwanted again," he invited, leading Rufioh out of the shop.

He did pause to give his mother a wave over his shoulder.

Once outside, he turned to his moirail and smirked. "Race ya to the rock, broadhorns. Vwing vwersus muscle powver. Vwhaddaya say?"

"You're on!" The Taurus grinned and took off, flying a circle around the seadweller before ascending to the fifth story, just high enough to be above the traffic lights without being out of sight.

The violetblood whooped the countdown and was off, letting his leashed anxiety free as he pushed it all into fight-or-flight instinct and then pounded his way across the streets, straight to the river where he could go even faster, diving in clothes and all (everything important was in waterproof spaces) before using his powerful arms and legs to cut through the water, going like a torpedo at full tilt.

When he reached the rock, his muscles were shaking with adrenaline, and after surfacing he looked around to see if the winged competitor had made it first or not.

The street light that was the end of the block before it the city became the park was the perfect perch, and Rufioh was leaning on his fist, swinging one leg back and forth.

"Took you long enough."

Cronus bared his teeth in a friendly 'fuck you' and plopped down up at the rock's top, panting.

"It'd havwe taken you longer if you'd had to play fucking 'frogger' vwith the traffic too," he shot back with a laugh, leaning back on his hands. Oh god it felt good to let loose. Even if it was only a race.

The flying bull laughed, grabbed the bar of the light and swung down to the ground with a flutter. "So...talk to me."

"Ah, vwhaddya vwanna talk about? I c'n tell you're shacked up. Howv's that vworkin'?"

"Wha-?" Rufioh literally tripped over his own feet in astonishment. "SHH!" His eyes darted back and forth, like he expected someone to come bursting out of the shadows, "Nobody knows yet, and we, uh, we wanna keep it that way. D-Damara didn't take our break up too well. So...if she knew I was...I think she'd hurt him."

"You vwent after  _Damara_? Christ gog a'mighty Ruf, evwen I knewv to stay avway from  _that_  one. She takes jealousy to vwhole newv levwels." The seadweller shook his head and pulled his friend down so he couldn't go horns over heels into the river. "I guess I'm just glad for ya, y'knowv? You deservwe a good flushmate."

"It was only a fling! She sorta bullied me into it...I guess..." The copperblood flomped with his legs crossed under him, picking at the grass. "It was fun, sorta...almost pitch in a way...but...then...Horuss just sorta was there, and...I guess it just...I dunno...felt better. He doesn't talk down to me, you know? He listens and he's into Fiduspawn! Or...well, he likes Horsaroni at least, which is way better than Damara ever did. She called it stupid...a wriggler's game, and said that I should give it up. Or at least I think that's what she meant. I hope she didn't mean the other kind of giving up, because that would just be...awful."

"Damara is a strange and sadistic bird, Rufioh. I vwouldn't be surprised because she just IS that awvful. I think Horus is good for you. You both got big dreams." His smile was soft and encouraging. Not a touch of envy anywhere. Then the violetblood sighed. "But there's somethin' yer avwoidin'. It's about Kankri, isn't it? I can tell you're dancin' round the issue."

The Taurus squirmed, trying to avoid saying anything, but he knew he had to, "It's just...well...he's a Vantas. You're a seatroll. Aren't you...I mean...wouldn't it be...uh...what if he dies?!"

Cronus tilted his head to the side. "I'm sorry, vwhat? Vwhy vwould he die? You'vwe lost me, buddy."

"They all do, dude." The soft, copper-brown eyes were wide with fear and worry, "Nobody knows how long they live, cuz not a one of them's made it past ten orbits. Not even his own mom."

"But...but they're made for Tyrian longevwity. That doesn't make any  _sense_." The fishboy was drooping, confused, and now starting to rub his temples. "Aaaugh, nowv don't that just suck shameglobes. My only possible pailing quadrant prospect is a priest, undergoing Trials, his signals could totally be a hallucination, AND he's probably gonna die young. Fuck my existence! Fuck the Ampora line!" He flopped down on his back and threw his arm over his eyes.

Rufioh sighed, dug into his shirt pocket and pulled out a rolled blunt. He lit it, took a drag on the inhale of a sigh and offered it to his palemate. "Mom says it's a curse. Cuz it's not like they, uh, just keel over or something. It's that they're all involved in political shit. They get caught in the crossfire. Can't help bein' involved. Like their blood calls them to it. In a lot of ways it's a good thing he's a priest of the Signless. Kan's just preachy enough to get the head priest's job. Then he'll be behind thick stone walls where the Frio can't get to him."

Cronus took the blunt and inhaled it, his tense muscles almost immediately relaxing a bit. "The Frio? They're here? Fuck. I thought they vwere only in the big cities. Howv the fuck did they find their vway to Little Alternia?"

"Dude! Little Alternia's part of New Chicago now! The human that's mayor or whatever they call him bought it from the Conjoined Cathedral a perigree ago. Didn't you watch the news the whole time you were gone?" The Taurus almost took the blunt back then decided this conversation needed a second one to get through. "The Frio own him. He owns L.A. We're all fucked. Yeah, it all happened a bit ago, when GHB was arrested. He got locked up, Aunt Red couldn't get him free, the Frio went batshit, your dad took off, and L.A. got swallowed by its bigger, badder, uglier human conjoined twin."

He took a deep drag, "Like I said, we're all fucked."

"Fuck. This is evwen vworse than vwhere I'vwe been. No vwonder the Frio's had all the rubies lately," the seadweller hissed, dragging deeply off the blunt until it came streaming out his gills. "But Ruf, vwhen I left, I livwed entirely in the vwater. There are no jobs for random coldbloods in cities vwhere nobody knowvs you, except vwith the Frio and I'm not vwilling to get invwolvwed vwith them. So 'vwe're all fucked' is an understatement." He sat up and stared at the water. "...christ is it evwen vworth it? Maybe it's good I don't havwe a pailing partner. Vwith the vworld goin' ta hell this quick vwould I evwen vwanna bring a vwriggler into this?"

"I dunno..." The copperblood shrugged and gave a small smile, "Ask me again in a couple of perigrees."

Cronus turned and gave the other male a searching look. "You think you vwill? Other colors hardly evwer take that quick."

A seadweller (pailed underwater) got knocked every time if they were in heat. Other colors, it wasn't such a sure thing. But for his friend's sake, he hoped.

"The, uh, Summoner's bloodline...it, uh..." The smile turned into a blush, which deepened with every word as he trailed off, his wings fluttering. "Let's just say it's the thing to do these days, I guess?"

The seatroll peered at him harder, ears back in concentration. "...You're not- right  _nowv_  are you?!"

"Uh...surprise?" Rufioh's smile was nervous, but too proud to go away, "Nobody knows about that either."

The violetblood was stunned for a moment, then grinned wide and leaned over to hug his moirail- careful of his strength- laughing softly. "You lucky man! Best of luck to you, Ruf. Hey-"

Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw white, and he turned. "Did the church smoke change back?"

The bull laughed, and leaned on Cronus' shoulder, looking up at the sky. "Hang on a sec. I'll go look." He pushed off from the ground in a smooth motion that betrayed nothing of his secret, and smiled down at the seadweller, "Taking every chance I can to fly now, before he gets too big to hide." He flattened his shirt to show off the small bump, "He's a blueblood, I can tell already."

Then he jumped up, fluttering back to streetlamp level, and looked around with a broad smile. Off to the east, over the farmlands just outside the city the sky was lightening, fluffy white clouds like lazy sheep hiding the stars that had yet to wink out for the night. The lights of New Chicago burned just as brightly to the north and northwest, the metropolis rarely calmed, and among the troll populace, it was rush hour, professionals in all forms of business were getting off work from a long night. To the far west a storm rolled over the ocean, the dark grey clouds almost black against the night sky except where lightning flickered, highlighting the rain coming down in Nature's deadly rejuvenating dance. Rufioh sighed, enjoying the sky for a few moments before looking south and east to the Conjoined Cathedral...

He blinked...his wings actually stopped moving for a moment, costing him precious altitude...it couldn't be! It just couldn't! No!

When he landed, unable to hold a steady rhythm in his flight, he was shaking, both tossing his head back and forth and trembling heavily. "N-n-no...no...n-no...i-i-it can't...no!"

"Vwhat? VWHAT?!" Cronus took the other troll by the lapels and pulled him around to face him. "Vwhat is it?!"

"It's...it's...b-b..b-b-b..." Caramel tears welled up in the Taurus' eyes before spilling over to stain the cooler grey of his palemate's hands when they splashed from his chin, "I-it's black."

"Black...oh  _no_ ," immediately, the seatroll began to hyperventilate.

It quickly progressed to a point where he couldn't breathe at all, and struggled out of his clothes before throwing himself into the water with such force his bare feet left indents and clawmarks in the stone.

He didn't surface.

What if he hadn't made it in time? Or what if his gills were gummed from all that chain smoking earlier?

Oh shit.

Rufioh fell to his knees, pulling the torn and dirty tee-shirt to his chest, sobbing into it. It didn't really matter which acolyte was dead, but one of them was, had to be for the smoke to be black. How long he stayed there, staining Cronus' shirt, he didn't know. Part of him hoped that the seatroll would surface, so he could shooshpap him, but he knew in his heart that the violetblood wouldn't. Whether suicide by ingesting human products, or choice to avoid the consequences, regardless of which one had perished, Rufioh didn't know, but he waited as long as he could, until the sun was coming in at an angle between the buildings and he risked exposure. The rays wouldn't be as bad until mid-morning, when the shade receded and the radiation was coming through less atmosphere, but he knew Horuss would be worried if he didn't leave soon enough to get inside before that happened. So, he sighed heavily, taking Cronus' jeans with him, and fluttered back to the diner to give the news to the gathered vigilants in case they didn't already know.

He'd admit it, he dragged his wings getting there. One of his friends was dead, and he had to be the one to tell the family. Taking a deep breath, all his pause got him was a flash of sunburn on his exposed shoulder. He stumbled through the door and several hopeful heads turned to him. It almost sent him into tears again, but he shook himself, breathing heavily.

"D-Dol...Dolorosa?"

"I'm here, child, what's happened?" The jadeblooded baker stepped around the counter and spied the clothing in his arms, "Is it Cronus? Has he taken off again? What's wrong?"

"The…the smoke." That got everyone's attention.

"What about it?" Her voice trembled a bit.

He couldn't say it. He tossed his head and pulled his moirail's shirt to his face again, shoulders shaking. Immediately a strong hand was on his back, rubbing the place between his wings, and he looked up into his flushmate's worried face. He lost his control again, tears pouring down his cheeks.

"Oh for fish-sakes! Spit it out, glubber-gills!" Meenah screeched.

Rufioh peered out at her with a glare, "The smoke's g-gone black."

An audible gasp ran through the cafe, and Redglare wailed in the background. Even Meenah fell back into her seat, stunned. It was...horrible! Kankri was so small compared to everyone else, not even half the size of Rufioh and Horuss. And Kurloz...he'd been through so much stress already, going into the Trials still injured from the beating he'd received after Mituna's accident. Meulin outright fainted, her father caught her with a disturbed expression on his face around his goggles. He looked around to the other distressed women and could only sit there, holding his daughter with the most gentle of touches.

The tall, elegant-horned, tyrian-blooded mother glided around her daughter and up to her eldest son's on-and-off palemate. Her clawed hands laid on the clothes in his arms and her eyes stared directly into his.

"Nitram. Where is my son?"

"H-he...panicked? I guess." The copperblood looked down at the clothes, and her blood-painted nails. Even though the hemocaste system was abolished, the sheer power the tyrians still exuded was enough to send coppers, yellows, and olives trembling in their shoes, and poor Rufioh was no different, for all that he had his flushmate's strong arms around him. "He c-couldn't breathe, I think. He tore off. I l-lost him after he...he, uh, dove in the water. I'm s-sorry."

"You...let him...go? You  _saw_  him panic and you  _let him go_? INTO THE WATER?!"

By this time Condesce had seemed to increase in size as her voice increased in volume and pitch, and he's had to remove her hand because otherwise she'd be clawing her son's palemate half to death.

"You let him get away! YOU LET HIM RUN! WE'LL  _NEVER_  FUCKING SEE HIM AGAIN!" Her hair lashed in an unseen wave as her teeth bared in an aggressive snarl.

"I-I-I  _COULDN'T!_ " The Taurus shrank against Horuss' chest, "Swimming is bad for warmblood grubs, and I won't know for sure which he is until he's hatched!"

The blueblood angled himself between his flushmate and the would-have-been empress, "I believe that is quite enough, Madam Peixes. My matesprit is in delicate condition and needs as little stress as possible, given that at current moment we are unaware as to which of our family members has surely met his end. Far be it for me to raise my voice, I must put my hoof down about this."

Dolorosa stepped in as well, wrapping her plush arm around the bigger female, "Condie, please, we're all worried about our boys. I'll send Ban out to find Dualscar in the evening if Nussie hasn't shown up by then. C'mon, let's get you something hot to drink."

The other mother turned teary eyes up to Dolorosa as she slumped against the other troll. "I've lost him again, Dol. I can feel it," she whispered, staggering. "I can  _tell_. I can feel his End Of Hope."

"I know, Condie, I know. C'mon. We...we'll think of something. We'll make him come back. Your wriggler needs you though." The jadeblood shooshed as best she could, given her own mountain of worries, as she ushered the tyrian over to the corner where Porrim had Redglare's face in her chest mounds, and Latula was huddled with Mituna. "Think of that. Focus on staying strong for little Eri."

Meenah sauntered up to the pair left in the doorframe, slightly more subdued than normal, but the look in her eye that she'd discovered something juicy. "Delicate condition, huh? Warmblood grubs? Won't Damara just be ab-sole-lutely fished to find out about that, So, when were ya gonna tell us, butter-bull-boy?"

Rufioh whimpered, and Horuss angled him away from the younger tyrian, "It's none of your business, Peixes. We hadn't given it much thought yet. What happens in one's own barn is one's private business and needs not be spread about the pasture like common grain."

"Cod, don't be so uptight about it. It's no grease off my gills who ya tell. Like I owe that rusty-freak any of my time anyway. Just thought it'd be nice to know, especially with all this glubbin' death goin' on." She flicked her hair and rolled her eyes, seemingly interested in what Aranea was doing suddenly, leaving the copperblood and his matesprit alone.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the fic actually earns it's E rating. XD

For the next twelve horrific hours the smoke stayed black. When the sun was setting again Rufioh, feeling crowded by the worrying family members in the cafe, took to the skies, circling the block several times before he settled on the roof of the apartment building. After a short while, Horuss joined him, bringing muffins and teafee to share. In the twilight it was hard to see the dark puffs but for a while it was obvious. Others drifted about, joining them on the roof for a while, before returning to find something else to do. The Old Colonel sat with them, polishing his rifle, and commenting about how he thought maybe everyone should just enjoy a good prank together to try and get their minds off the tragedy, but no one really took him up on the offer. Ms. Harley, matriarch of the only other human family in the building roped Mrs. Crocker, the Old Colonel's wife, into taking over for Dolorosa when Redglare and Condesce proved to be too much for them to handle. The joy from Mituna's return was quickly forgotten by the apparent price. Even he was subdued, holding onto Latula, though that may have been more opportunistic on his part, as their position afforded him the use of her chest mounds as pillows. All in all, once the initial impact wore off, the gathered vigilants were quiet, reflective, or at least pouting.

Then around dawn on Day Six, the smoke disappeared completely. It grew smaller, and smaller, and then like the wisp of an extinguished candle, it was gone.

Nobody was quite sure what that meant. It was a day early for the Trials to be over. Did that mean...did that mean they were both dead?

Though nobody was anywhere near to see it, the water near the vigil rock churned and bubbled for almost an hour when the smoke first disappeared before again falling still.

For the rest of that day, the entire night, and most of the day after, it was like everyone was walking through a haze. The confusion held heavy over the building. People passed each other without speaking. Food was eaten, drinks were imbibed, sleep was had, and none of it was felt, by anyone. Just after sunset on the seventh day though it cracked. As was usual even before the Trials, most were gathered in Dolorosa's cafe, though the jadeblooded mother figure now had the help of Ms. Harley and her daughter-in-law, Jane, and scones, muffins, fishbuns, other goodies to be eaten were passed out among the gathered customers. A pot of coffee made its way through the crowd when a mug exploded against the wall next to the little back-lit writing board where Dolorosa posted her specials.

"I can't glubbin' take it anymore!" The young tyrian screamed to the sea of startled faces. "People glubbin' die all the glubbin' time, are we all reely just gonna glubbin' sit here and not talk halibut!?"

Dualscar, who had been called in to restrain his flushmate, clenched his jaw as Condesce, who had been sitting and staring vacantly at the wall, burst into tears and crumpled into his arm. He glared at his daughter and spoke quietly.

"Somethin' you havwe yet to learn, brat, is  _patience_."

He reached over and hooked one of her long horns and used it to haul her in, lip curling so his needle teeth were visible. With his flushmate in such a state it fell to him to be the disciplinarian and this was not tolerable behavior. It was not how a lady, much less tyrian former royalty, was to act.

"Vwe don't knoww anythin' for sure yet, an' 'til we do, we continue to hope they havwe not died. You can nevwer be sure a someone's death 'til you see the body," his voice became sharper, "an' vwe do not knoww vwhat the cessation a the smoke means. Throwwin' a tantrum vwill not speed up our learnin' the results. All it vwill do is needlessly stress an' upset evweryone present, at least twwo a vwhom are vwith vwriggler an'  _need no extra glubbin' stress_."

Meenah did the unthinkable. She bared her teeth at her father, "What the glub do you know!? What about Cronus!? He's off pouting Gog only knows where! His moirail's one of the ones who's wriggled up! How come you aren't off haulin' him around by his horns?!"

His grip on her horn tightened and she would know, if she hadn't already, that she had made a mistake.

The way he pulled her head around, and her body, forced her against his shoulder, where his elbow pinned her arms so both claws and teeth were useless, and he held her so hard she could barely breathe, much less struggle.

"Cronus is not  _poutin'_. He's  _dyin'_ , you selfish little grub," his voice was low and cruel. "Unlike me, unlike you, unlike your mother, Cronus does not an' has nevwer had a quadrant prospect outside a Rufioh in this town an' I havwe no doubt the abuses heaped upon him vwhile he vwas travvelin' the vworld only damaged him further. He returns home to meet Kankri, wwhom he goes flush for instantly, only to be separated the vwery next night, an' then to see this one, single,  _possible_  prospect an' believwe him dead- the Amporas are the keepers of Hope. Vwhen we lose Hope, we  _die_. An' as far as your brother knowvs, his only hope is dead. THAT is vwhy I am not haulin' him 'round by his horns, you self-absorbed  _child_. Because he vwouldn't be able to feel it. An' it vwould only kill him faster."

Beneath his other arm, his matesprit curled closer to his side and cried harder, heaving sobs that shook both their bodies and made ugly noises as her horns hitched and stabbed the air.

The door to the cafe opened then, the light of the dying sun flooding through the doorway, framing the figure in a halo of soft yellow. The shadows of the backlight hid the person's features, but they were cloaked, a long flowing thing with a hood and tiny, rounded horns.

A hand raised, gentle and soothing, to rest on the sea-warrior's bent shoulder, "Brother, seek not the path of anger. Your fear for your son is just, but so, too, is your daughter's."

"I don't glubbin'-"

"Shoosh, child." The figure stroked its other hand over Meenah's arm. "Would you cost your mother her only daughter?"

Dualscar seemed startled, dropping his daughter to the floor and staring at the cloaked Troll like he was a ghost. "Deprived a...then it's already happened? He's indeed...gone?"

Condesce gave out a heart-wrenching wail as her entire body went boneless and she keened in grief. His body must have washed up along the riverbank, that was why the priest was here, oh god she couldn't bear to think of his body, bloated and drowned!

"I can't say that for certain, only that he isn't here. My Brother in Faith sensed the drop in his Hope. As such we hurried to return. Has something actually befallen him?" The priest stepped further into the cafe, and dropped his hood, for at once it was obvious who he was.

Concern creased a brow that was stained with dried sweat, and hollows carved the sleepless days under his eyes. His body showed all the signs of great fatigue, but his eyes...oh the shine in the crimson orbs. Those were the eyes of a troll who had faced death head on, greeting it as a worthy kismesis, and returned bearing the pitchbites as proof. When the gasp ran through the gathered masses, he stepped forward again, reaching to grasp Dualscar's shoulder.

"Tell me, is he alright?"

The elder violetblood's mouth was tight and he nodded at the chocolateblood that was his son's moirail sometimes. "Ask him. He vwas the one vwho saw him last. Vwhat he told us...vwas not..." He shook his head. "It does not inspire the idea that he is in any vway alright. It does not evwen inspire the idea he is alivve."

Kankri turned to the other, and the intensity of the priest's gaze made the winged troll shiver, "I...He, uh...When the smoke changed...he...he dove into the water, tore his clothes off, didn't even say anything."

"Blessed Mother." The redblood bit his lip. "My apologies, I must leave again. I promise, I'll answer all of your questions when I return. No matter how triggering this may be for some of you, I simply cannot let Hope die, he is too important in what will come."

With that, he whipped the hood of his cloak back up and flew out the door again, faster than he'd entered, making a bee-line for the river. For, though Rufioh hadn't said it aloud, logic and a newfound wisdom born of the Trials gave the new priest insight into the seadweller's whereabouts.

The water near the lookout rock was unnaturally still, and there seemed to be an alarming amount of purple in it. No, not purple.  _Violet_. It drifted, thick...but diluting. Diluting like blood, twisting lazily like violet smoke trails. It was hard to determine the origin- impossible, from the surface.

It took several deep breaths before Kankri could make his fingers stop shaking. Now that he was alone the fear that had pushed him through the last three days gripped his pump biscuit. He murmured every prayer for salvation he could think of under his breath as he stripped down to his undergarments and the bracers that marked him as a fully-anointed priest. He forced himself to fold the sacred robes neatly to the side, then took several steps back, ran, and dove into the river.

Underwater was disorienting for all of a few seconds while his gills remembered how to work and the third eyelid, usually left open, cleared enough so he could see. It was a little known fact that the Vantas line had seadweller blood. They kept the traits secret, and pushed nosey teal and jadebloods off the trail by avoiding the water as much as possible. The rumor was that long ago the Deliverer had even been pupated with fins, as the violet and tyrianbloods were. None of the paintings showed them, but in the sacred texts there were several mentions of scars along his jaw and in between his fingers, as though the seatroll markers had been removed to protect him. Kankri himself had none, merely two sets of gills that were barely functional when he truly needed them, and the third eyelid to protect his eyes from the grit of the water. Well, that and one other trait...he could sing. Only underwater, and nowhere near the range of the tyrians, but enough that his song carried for miles. It was that which he used now, calling out into the violet cloud, tones of mourning and worry, like a lost ocean mammal looking for his pod.

From nearby, very nearby- in fact, from under the rock, where the blood was coming from, came an answering song. Except it didn't sound quite like it should. It was gravelly. Deep. But with an unnatural roughness, and along with the song came a fresh eruption of blood, so fresh it was still warm compared to the water when it blossomed around Kankri like a grotesque flower.

The music was cut off by a deep, painful, hacking cough, making yet more blood stream out of the darkness beneath the stone. There was a scraping and movement rippled the water, dissipating the blood for a moment, a thin, lanky body visible for a moment before it faded behind the screen of violet fluid and the gray troll skin blended back into the rock.

With the grace that only genetic seadwellers possessed, the redblood twisted to get under the rock. He frowned, and reached out to the hiding other. His vision wasn't as good in the dark caves, but it was enough that he could see the cuts, the scrapes where Cronus had finger-combed the tar off of the fibrous membranes stained the violet color of his blood.

The eerily glowing eyes came around, and Cronus squinted at him for a moment before he froze.

"Oh no. Nonononono," he slammed back into rock, water hissing through his teeth as his gills flared wide. "Nono, not you again, don't do this to me, it hurts evwen vwithout the hallucinations, vwhatevwer cruel Horrorterror is doing this just STOP!" The echoes of his words in the water removed his accent as he sobbed, curling into a ball, breathing fast and his claws starting to dig into skin.

It was the only thing that made the visions of the dead troll go away.

Kankri stopped. His hand closed on water, and pain flashed across his face. He looked down where the claws had further broken the pale gray skin, "You're hurting yourself."

Frightened, confused eyes looked up at him over scratched knees. "It makes them stop. But you're not...you're not going avway?"

Something swelled around them on the psychic level. Something  _very_  hard to kill. Hope.

"...you're...real?"

"Yes. Do you not want me to be?" The priest drifted forward again, but the muscles in his arm twitched like he was afraid to touch the other.

There was no warning- the next second Cronus had launched himself exactly like an eel- he latched on with his hands as his body wrapped around Kankri's trapping it with his bigger, lankier one, earfins flared high and wide as his eyes turned to slits.

_"Holy mother of glub. You're real. You're ALIVWE,"_  he hissed, chest vibrating as he crushed the other against him.

"I...yes. I'm alive." Kankri crooned, the song vibrating form the place where he purred on land. He let his hands rest on the taller troll's hips, to avoid brushing against the injuries along his ribs. "Of course I'm alive. I have work to do, and you're part of it. I couldn't leave you, no matter how far I had to go." He shimmied his way north to tuck his nose under Cronus' earfin, "I've Seen it, beloved, and I cannot let my Hope die."

The noise he made was somewhere between a trill and a sob and he practically rubbed himself over Kankri like a meowbeast. "Kankri, I need you. I need you  _right nowv_ , I'm in heat and I thought you vwere dead and I vwas scared and-  _please_ , Kan," he whimpered.

The redblood said nothing, merely used the water between them to wriggle his hands up to capture the violetblood's jaw between his palms. He stared into the equally violet orbs for all of a moment before crashing their mouths together. He nudged a thigh between Cronus' own and curled his spine in a sensual wave of touch from collar bones to hips.

The violet hissed and his body bucked back, not nearly as fluid, but he didn't care. His legs wrapped around the one between his thighs and his nook opened, thicker purple staining the water as he ground against Kankri, aching and desperate.

The lubrication fluid tingled where it met the shorter troll's nether lips, like it was electric, or possibly just the difference in temperature between them. Though the water was cold, Cronus was colder, but it worked, the slit of his seedflap parted to allow the tip of his bright red bulge to emerge. He hissed at the water, and his body responded by releasing his own crimson fluids in an attempt to warm the area around them.

Cronus' response was greedy, groaning as he matched their hips together, his own emerging bulge pressing gently at the red twin, the tingly fluid causing a warming, arousing sensation, trying to get his partner worked up to match him.

Kankri arched into the touch, his breath a stream of hot bubbles over the violet's earfin, and he whispered, in the sub-vocal language of the passionate, just how much he wanted this. It took very little time for him to be fully engorged, the thick, warmblood shape making his bulge heavy, like the shaft of a hoofbeast, but yet, ridges pulsed along the bottom where a vein carried blood into the erectile tissue, and the very tip, prehensile and curious, had a small frill, like a seadweller, that rippled, ghost-like, as it quested for friction alongside his mate's.

The violet bulge, when fully emerged, was longer, but thinner, heavily frilled, and dotted with bioluminescent spots that glowed the same purple as the 'freckles' on his face and the pupils of his eyes. His tentacle wrapped around Kankri's thicker one, too desperate to wait, and guided it where he needed it.

And he was definitely in need. His nooklips were swollen and open, the muscles contracted to force him wide for easier entry by his mate, and his fluids were leaking so thickly into the water it was almost hard to see.

The redblood gasped, and for all that the violet's nook was freezing, his bulge dove into it as deep as it could go, writhing and twisting, pressing into all of the dips and hidden places until his frill brushed against the deep, deep sphincter that was the entrance to his eggpouch. The prehensile tip circled the place, and Kankri shuddered with the direct stimulation to the most sensitive part of his bulge, not that he really had control over anything thanks to his instincts.

The taller troll nuzzled into Kankri's chin, licking and nipping lightly, even as his nook tried to suck that red heat deeper, the muscle that usually sealed his eggpouch opened and attempting to catch that teasing tip, chirping as he clung to his flushmate, bulge rubbing against his stomach as he focused on the thickness filling him up inside.

With answering song, the hotter troll stroked down his matesprit's back, nipping and crooning, his bulge plunging ever deeper in a rhythmic pulse. His breath came in short bursts of bubbles through his crimson gills, the fibrous membranes flaring with the effort. His own nook dripped into the water, making a translucent magenta slurry of lubrication fluid that was steadily getting thicker, as the fire in his veins coiled tighter.

Cronus' nook finally caught that tip and sucked it in, drawing it as far as it would reach and then holding on tight, milking that muscle with the whole of his nook as his bulge twisted around and thrust straight on in to Kankri's own dripping tunnel, frills causing a bumpy sensation despite the smooth slide as he crooned back. His voice was still like gravel, and his gills, thanks to the tears, were working harder than they should. He didn't have enough oxygen in his blood to last long.

Another gasp accompanied a full-body shudder as Kankri cried out with climax, his bulge actually flexing with the grip around it to pump his genetic material into his flushmate. He had to hold on with his claws in the violet's glute, but he tried his hardest not to dig in too deep.

Howling in satisfaction, the lithe body drank him in as his own bulge released a spurt of cool genetic fluid and he pressed as close as possible to his mate, panting as his nook worked the bulge in it until it didn't have so much as a drop left to give.

The redblood shivered as his over-worked bulge retracted slowly. There was a small pop inside his mate as the tip emerged from the sphincter and the sack snapped closed to withhold his genetic fluid, but the rest was just body-wracking aftershocks caused by sensation to an over-sensitive organ. He flexed his hands kneading the muscles where he'd used his claws, and sang, a complicated melody that was impossible to duplicate above water.

Cronus chuckled and sang the return, his eyelids starting to flicker. His body wanted rest, in order to make the most of the genetic material he'd gathered, but he wanted to see this to completion and as his own bulge withdrew he kissed Kankri softly.

They drifted in clearer water for a short while, simply entangled and enjoying each other's embrace. Eventually, the redblood guided them to the surface, near where he had laid his robes. There would be hundreds of questions to answer, but the Trials and then mating...it all equaled a pair of very tired trolls. Which made Kankri immensely grateful when the only three to meet them were their moirails, and his Holy Moirail. The jade had her hands on her hips demanding an explanation, while the copper and the amethyst held out large fluffy towels for the two of them.

As promised, Kankri allowed them to usher him back to the cafe to spin the tale of what happened to make the smoke change colors, but all he would tell them was, "Change is coming, my friends, and we are to see it happen as we walk the path of those who came before us. Though we are altered from our history, we are not so far removed that we cannot follow the Signs. Have patience, all will be revealed in Time."


	7. Chapter 7

Meenah frowned, angrily flipped the page of her manga, bit off the growl that bubbled up from her chest and finally flat out glared at her brother. Apparently, skipping out on the last 48 hours of Trials meant that newly-appointed Priest of the Signless Mr. Kankri glubbin' Vantas had to go back to his church for extensive interviews, and something that he couldn't speak about with almost everyone except his Brother in Faith had happened during those rushed days and nights while he drifted in the dream bubbles. The younger tyrian didn't know what, and frankly, didn't care. What she did care about was that when it was made clear that her minnow of a brother couldn't go with his flushmate, their mother insisted that he move back into their hive, at the top of the apartment building. The humans called it a penthouse, or something, she didn't care about that either. It was irritating. It had been bad enough when he moved in and took over the room that had been his when they were wrigglers. It was right next to Meenah's and his glubbin' music played at all hours of the night and day. It was even worse when little Eridan, just barely hatched from his wriggling cocoon, had discovered that his big brother's music was something to try to sing along with. But this...this was the last straw!

"Would you just glubbin' give it up already!? It ain't gonna close no matter how hard you pull on it." She growled, slamming her book into her lap.

"I don't owvn any other motherfucking pants, Meenah," he snapped in return, pulling harder on the jean button and the hole it was supposed to fasten in. All he managed to do was tear it, and he threw his hands up in disgust. "Lovwely."

"What's this about?" Their mother had come gliding into the room just in time to hear the tear, and came around to inspect her son.

"It's nothin'. My pants must havwe shrunk, Ma, I can't button 'em anymore."

She bent closer to him, examining pants and stomach for a moment before a grin broke across her face.

"Yer glubbin'  _wriggled_  is what it is. Yer pants didn't shrink." She jumped up and clapped her hands. "I'll go get you my maternity pants!"

As she went pounding out of the room, he sank onto the couch and rubbed a hand over his face. "Glubbin' great. Just vwhat I need. Mom fangirlin' over havwin' a grandchild."

"Just what you need?! What the glub do you think I need, Mr. Seahorse!? It's been almost a full perigree! When you movin' in with Vantas and gettin' outta my glubbin' fins!" Meenah crossed her arms over her chest, rolling up with her legs folded under her to glare at her brother.

He glared over at her, hand rubbing his stomach. "I don't  _knowv,_  Meenah. Lay the glub off," he growled irritably.

He was having strange dreams lately. A fear had started inside his gut that somehow Kankri wouldn't want the wriggler. Wouldn't want him. It wouldn't be his first fling, though he knew he shouldn't have done it on his heat. Gog, violets always got knocked in heat. But while Kankri had been very...persistent in pursuing him flush, it felt a lot like a one-night thing. He'd been through enough of them to know. And nobody had said anything about quadrants, or permanency...

He ground his teeth. "Mebbe nevwer."

"OH GOG! I can't take all this fishin' and moatin' bullfish! I'm headin' to Serket's place, don't tell Mom, and for Gog's sake pull your glubbin' head out your glubbin' nook and go talk to the crabbastard!" She threw herself off the couch, the tankoban issue flying up out of her hand to land pages down on the cushion where she'd just been sitting. Then she did exactly what she said she was going to do, flinging open the door and storming out without another word.

His agitated hiss followed her out as his mother had returned with all her maternity outfits.

This was not going to be a pleasant afternoon.

Several blocks away, the redblooded newly-anointed priest bowed his head, touching the center of his forehead to the stone between his hands, in reverence to his superior. This afternoon's conference had gone well, and he looked forward to spending the rest of the evening with his matesprit. Just the thought of that sent excited tingles down his spine. His matesprit! Sure they hadn't talked about it, but he couldn't see Cronus ever saying no. So, he relished in the tiny bit of selfishness those sorts of thoughts evoked in his pump biscuit.

"...that is why-Kankri, you're distracted again." Father Light's voice was pleasantly amused, the smile on his face obvious in his tone.

The younger priest blushed a bit as he sat up. "My apologies, Monsignor. My thoughts were drifting to my flushmate. It's been quite some time since we had any real time to be alone together between my schedule here and his attempts to find work in the city. I hope you'll forgive my mental wandering."

The other troll waved his hand, indulgently, "No, no, go on then. You've been kept here far too much for my liking this last perigee anyway. You are young. You should be out experiencing the world. If your visions are truly to come there will be time to dissect them at length when you are older. You said yourself you do not expect anything to happen for at least another ten orbits."

"Quite. The central players in the dreams have not even yet been hatched. It may be some time yet before that comes to pass at the very least. I merely wish to ensure that the Order has them documented, thoroughly should anything...happen to me." Kankri didn't quite swallow the pause between his words.

"My son, you are a Seer and a Priest of Blood. If there is one thing I know about that sect, they are long-lived, no matter what your genetics have you fearing. Now go, before I have to make it an order." Father Light smiled more intently, with a purpose.

The redblood was on his feet faster than a hopbeast, and bowed again with a huge grin on his face. Then he was out the door of the conference chamber and practically bouncing down the hallway to his former room. For now he still shared it with his Brother in Faith, but eventually he needed to find a real apartment, someplace close by, but away from the church. At that time Kurloz would move back in with Meulin, and new acolytes would have use of their chambers for their studies.

Kurloz was resting in there- since the trials he had been on a very strict 'no working, no moving, NO FUCKIN CHUCKLEVOODOOS' treatment schedule. He was guarded most of the time by his brothers and they let him up only to use the ablution chamber and eat. He waved welcome at Kankri when he entered, signing.

<<Are you finally all done?>>

"Yes. Now to change." Kankri practically danced around the cot that was his bed, grabbing more comfortable clothing, and removing most of the symbols of his status. The only things he kept on were the bracers around his forearms, the comfortable pants, and his boots. "How are you? Is the pain any better today?"

<<The pain is better every day, brother. I heal fast.>>

His smile widened a little as he settled back into his pillows. Ow. Stung. It was good though, to see how Kankri was so excited. He was going to see his flushmate and he deserved that happiness.

"Do you need anything before I go?"

The redblood kept his voice calm for once, he really wouldn't leave unless his partner was safe and secure. If it hadn't been for the Mime pushing himself...well...Kankri didn't like to think about what might have happened, for all that he'd Seen it in his visions.

Kurloz gave a derisive snort.

<<Go, brother, before I make you. Your Ampora is waiting and I'll be FINE.>>

"If you're sure." The priest grinned, and gave the sign for their partnership with his hands before ducking out of the door and literally taking as many shortcuts as he could to get back to his mother's bakery.

Once there he tripped over Meenah's foot, but when she went to glare at him, realized who he was and started laughing. He frowned in confusion, but she refused to say anything, shaking her head and continuing on her way down the block with a fishbun in her hand. He mimicked her, still confused, and ducked around behind the building to scale back steps in an effort to avoid anyone else that could potentially slow him down. As such, he reached the top floor panting, since he'd had to climb over the roof-ledge, and enter the building from the access door, rather than try knocking on the window of the seatrolls' apartment. It just wouldn't be right to show up unannounced at the window. Thus, he took a moment to steady himself and knocked on the door, joy bubbling up in his chest.

The door was opened and a violetblood was there, but it  _definitely_  wasn't the one he was looking for. This one was...considerably shorter. In fact his horns were barely coming in and he had to stretch to reach the doorknob. But behind his tiny glasses his still-black pupils glared from over an equally tiny scowl, earfins flared to try and make him look slightly larger. He also had a purple stripe in his black hair.

"Wwho are you?"

"Well, hi there. I'm Kankri. You must be Eridan." The priest dropped to a crouch so he was eye-level with the wriggler, and deliberately showed a bit of throat in acknowledgement of the tiny threat display.

He was eyed suspiciously, but the little fins furled in acknowledgement of 'not-a-threat'. "Yeahhhh...but wwhat wwould a priest be needin' wwith us, Kankri?"

He was definitely Dualscar's boy, suspicious as hell.

"I'm here to see your big brother. Is he around?" Though he spoke in simple sentences, the redblood did not slip into the pattern or tone of typical adults.

It was a habit trolls had begun to pick up from humans, treating their young as innocent and thus, fragile or in some way unable to hold their own. Troll grubs were more violent and dangerous than even some troll adults. Once they became kits it was folly to assume that they wouldn't know how to use their claws and fangs and horns, regardless of how small they were, and when it came to coldbloods, the colder the more likely to slash first and ask questions later. It was why troll youngsters didn't enter human schools until high school, and often at different ages. The troll mind held no qualms about learning at any age, naturally more adaptable and quicker thinking than humans. So, often the classes at the local high schools had kits that were, by human standards, barely old enough for middle school. The only thing that held them back was their tendency for violence, which meant sometimes classes also had trolls that were much older than their human peers, simply because they'd been held back due to a lack of control. It rather went without saying that the accelerated wrigglers tended to be warmblooded and the coldbloods were often lacking. Exceptions existed, of course, but it was better to be on the safe side. Thus, Kankri was well aware that the youngling could, and would, attack it he felt threatened in any way.

The younger troll seemed nervous and hopeful all at once with this news, and stepped aside with the sort of quickstep used by the small when they have figured out something very important.

"You must be here to make him better," the wriggler said firmly as he gestured Kankri into the house. "He's pukin' up his gills in the ablution chamber noww. C'mon in."

Crimson eyes darted up over the child's head, brows creased in worry, as he stepped over the threshold, "Puking? Oh my...I hope this isn't a bad time."

The younger violet rolled his eyes. "Hardly. He's  _alwways_  pukin' these days, wwill be for the next twwo perigrees I guess."

"T-two perigrees?" Kankri looked more worried, and bit at his lip a little. "Should I wait here, or go to him?"

"Go on in. He stops hurlin' quicker wwhen someone rubs his back but my arms can't reach," the little one replied, going over to the couch and flopping on it as from the offset ablution chamber came the sound of miserable wretching and dry heaving.

"Oh my..." The redblood moved off without another word. When he entered the room, he immediately started thrumming, and placed a hand between his flushmate's shoulders, rubbing gently. "Shoosh...I got you..."

Cronus heaved a few more times before spitting and flushing, straightening up a little, face flushed and eyes dazed, but soothed. He grabbed some nearby mouthwash already in a cup, swished, and spat before seeming to really realize who was in the room with him.

"K-Kankri?"

"In the flesh, though I'm hoping you aren't going to assume I was dead this time, right?"

He laughed, but it felt wrong, he smelled like mint and acid, not cigarettes, and outside of the feverish flush, he was quite pale.

"Nah, I c'n tell yer alivwe," he returned, leaning on the sink. He kept his body turned so Kankri didn't have a clear view, and his earfins were half-furled instead of fully relaxed.

The priest's hand was still raised from having been soothing, and he looked like he wanted to reach out for the violet. Something held him back though, a certain guarded wariness that the seadweller carried through his body language. It was enough to make him curl his fingers into his palm and bring his hand to the center of his chest.

He traced the other's frame with worried eyes, "Are you okay?"

Cronus chuckled dryly. "Yeah, more or less. Things're progressing like they should, Mom said."

He had no idea how to approach this. No clue what to do, or say, and he fell back on the only defense he really knew- distance. His stance shifted as he fell back on the mindset that made things easier to bear. He could always raise the wriggler himself. He could provide. The sea could provide.

Again Kankri was so tempted to reach out, but he just couldn't invade the other's space like that. "Progressing? I'm afraid you have me at something of a disadvantage, Cro."

The violetblood turned his body and let his hand rest on his stomach, the slight curve exaggerated by his lithe swimmer's build and thick musician's knuckles. "You're not the only one disadvwantaged at the moment, Kan."

"Uh...OH! Is it...I mean...that's...oh Signless! You've done it to me again. How am I supposed to converse rationally if you leave me tongue-tied?" The redblood stepped forward, flat out staring at the egg-bump. He wanted to touch so badly! Then he forced his eyes up, worried, "It's mine, right?"

Cronus rolled his eyes so hard for a moment he thought they were going to pop out of his skull. "Of course it's yours, you dunce. I didn't pail anyone else in my heat undervwater," he returned, reaching out, grabbing his hand, and laying it on his stomach.

"I didn't mean to-wow..." His thumb rubbed a small circle as the shorter troll's gaze shifted back down, and he closed the gap between them. His throat was constricted, so his next few sentences came out strained and fearful, "Are you gonna keep it? I mean...do you want to?" And his expression as he glanced at his matesprit screamed 'let me if you don't'.

The seatroll's expression twisted in genuine confusion, his distance shattered. "Vwhat the hell do you mean, 'am I gonna keep it, do I vwant to'? It's my egg."

This was said with particular conviction, as if it should explain everything, which as far as the violet was concerned, it did.  _Give up_  his egg? It never occurred. It was his wriggler. Of course he wanted it!

Relief flooded Kankri's entire body, and he couldn't hold himself back anymore. His smile filled his face, and he wrapped his other arm around his flushmate's back, nuzzling the violet's thorax as it was all the higher he could reach, and purring loud enough to echo.

"So many eggs wind up on the Cathedral's doorstep, I had to ask. I'm sorry I doubted you. I can't wait to see our wriggler. I'm sure he'll be fierce and wild like his momma."

The taller was flushing again, this time with pleasure.  _Our wriggler_. Not 'your'. Good sign!

"Perish the glubbin' thought," he assured, hugging and stroking Kankri in return with a low hum. "Fierce an' vwild? I remember you bein' the pursuer in our lil' tango, Kan."

"I could never have lived on my own in the sea for orbits! You're strong, and smart, and you know how to survive on just what the planet provides. All of my strengths are mental. I'm not even half as strong as Kurloz, or even Rufioh, but you?" The priest buried his nose against Cronus' thoracic scent gland, the little dip between the seadweller's pectorals was just wide and deep enough, "You're even stronger than they are. I'm sure he'll be just like you. Plenty of brawn to go with his brains, and I hope he's taller than me."

The violet chuckled, threading his claws into Kankri's hair. "Yeah but the Amporas are lonely little shits and there's already too many of us. I vwant him to be a Vwantas. Then he'd havwe a chance. And you are strong," he encouraged. "It's only a matter o' learnin', and you're as good a learner as anyone."

"Eh...He...uh...he will be." Scarlet colored the shorter troll's ears, and he mumbled, "It's a mutant thing...We're like tyrians. If he's male, which is more likely than not, given our gender assignments, he'll be born a Vantas. Candy-blood. And short. I don't even know what he'd be like if he came out female...can violets turn out female?"

"Female vwiolets are considered a vwariant of tyrian," he replied. "Their color is alvways more pinkish. And like I said. Better a vworld-influencing Vwantas than a lonely Ampora."

"World-influencing is not always less lonely. Remember? I was practically quadrant-less before you strummed your way into my heart. I had even begun to think about taking a vow of chastity for my Ordination." Kankri sighed, "Frankly, I hope he does not become world-influencing. It's a dangerous undertaking no matter what walk of life you start from, and the next one to do so will have an uphill battle against those he cares about the most from what I've Seen-" He cut himself off with a sharp intake of breath, and a drain of color from his face, "I wasn't supposed to say that."

"I'll forget it," Cronus replied airly as he made his way out of the ablution chamber. "Howvevwer, I do find myself cravwing sushi vwith redhot grubsauce vwith pickles and svweet cream. So I'm going to get that assembled."

These cravings were going to kill him.

"I don't know VWHAT you're doing in there but I hope you settle on something you like soon," he told his eggpouch as he started assembling food on the counter.

The priest followed after, his fingers laced with nerves, but they were happy worries this time. "So...I guess you'll want to...maybe...look at that apartment at the end of the hall on the sixth floor then?"

The Aquarius grinned before popping one of the sushi rolls into his mouth with a pleased purr. "Mhm. Th'rent's affordable an' I'll be near m'mom fer babysittin'," he replied thickly around the fish.

"I...I know this is...we've only known each other for a little more than a perigree, but...um...would you...maybe..." Kankri bit his lip, drawing an invisible design on the counter with his blunt claw, "want to...hive with me? Like...officially?"

"Yes. I'm havwing your egg, landlubber, I'd lovwe to hivwe vwith you." The seadweller's thumb brushed the other's empty ring finger and he glanced down at it. "And maybe more..."

"I...I...I...really?!"

Cronus swallowed, swept his tongue over his teeth, then leaned over and kissed Kankri on the mouth. The redblood's tongue followed the kiss, chasing after the taste of sweet cream and hot sauce like it was the nectar of the gods. He actually stumbled forward a little, finding his arms achingly empty all of a sudden.

His matesprit chuckled, granting him another kiss and wrapping Kankri's arms around his waist as he popped another roll into his mouth. "Yeah, Kan. I vwouldn' say it if I didn't mean it."

It was cute how he had to lead Kankri into the physical stuff.

"Flush you, Cronus Ampora. Flush you so hard." The priest began to purr again, tucking himself somehow both around his matesprit and within the lanky seadweller's embrace.

The violetblood blushed deeply and replied, "Flush for you too, Kan."

To hear that said, so sincerely, by the father of his egg...oh it made him light up inside.

Out on the couch, Eridan was watching them over the back and made a little pleased 'glub' sound before sinking down, fanning himself wildly. In fact, he was downright swooning from the amazing romance happening in the kitchen.

With any luck, that would be  _him_  one day.


End file.
